


Deadlight

by HellIsHip



Category: IT, IT - Stephen King, IT Chapter 2, Stephen King - Fandom
Genre: Comedy, Horror, M/M, Reddie, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-26 23:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 40,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellIsHip/pseuds/HellIsHip
Summary: Richie Tozier, an up and coming Comedian, is still trying to recover from the events of 2 years ago. Him and the losers having to kill that god forsaken clown again once and for all. Except not all the losers made it that day. And that leads us to the now. The nightmares. Richie's awful nightmares that haunt him every night much like Beverly two years before. Richie knew what this was, Richie had seen It before. But It was dead.





	1. The Prelude

Richie’s slender fingers pushed up his glasses, the necessity sliding up on his nose, granting him the advantage of sight when it comes to reading various books. His eyes dance across pages after pages as if searching for something far out of reach. An answer. Don’t we all seek answers?  
The phone rings and Richie looks up for a brief moment, only to read “Steve Covall”. Richie would roll his eyes if he had the time but he simply doesn’t, so he goes right back to work, thankful for his trusty glasses granting him vision. The same glasses that had blood splattered on them when It happened. He is thankful for finally gaining the balls to replace the lenses, as one was cracked before, yet he still could not find it in himself to separate from the broken lenses, so it is currently stored away in his room next to a tablet full of comedy gold.  
The phone finally silences  
A voicemail is left  
Richie sifts through papers on his desk till he finds a, much too dangerously placed, opened switchblade. He traces out imaginary lines in the paper with the knife till he gets a rectangular shape, fit with words of need. This particular page he cut was from a book titled “Untold tales” by some writer who calls themselves “Bob Smith”. However, Richie hypothesizes that is a fake name. Such a basic name on such an odd book, surely the author was ashamed to put their name on the cover. Or perhaps afraid. Anyway. This cut out selection read something about a monster. It was a detail saying  
“... the skin would peel back into a wicked smile until the corners of its mouth reached its ears and stretched its snout up as to allow it’s fang adorned tunnel of a mouth…”  
Richie knew what that was like. What It meant.  
The phone buzzes.  
Richie glances over to see a lengthy text message sent to him by Steve. He didn’t want to deal with Steve’s bickering but he knew he should probably just give in and look  
The text went a little like  
_ Richie you asshole where the fuck are you, you are on at 8 and no one has seen you. Your sorry ass better have an explanation, we have a crowd expecting you. A fucking crowd. Get your sorry ass over here fucking NOW_  
Or something like that  
Richie finally unlocks his phone and checks out the voicemail, which is just the same thing except him raising his voice in a panicked fury.  
The man stares at the screen, pondering a solution, but alas there is none. He takes a deep breath and taps the screen a few times to call his “co worker”/“friend” if you will.  
“You better have a real good explanation for this one”  
“I’m sorry Steve but I can’t do it”  
“What the fuck happened in Derry? You’re not telling me something I just know it, you’ve been acting like a finicky asshole ever since you went back- and, NO! You can’t just fucking cancel on a show that’s suppose to be on in fucking TEN MINUTES”  
Richie looks at the digital clock that sits unaffected on his bedside table from his desk. He has an office but he likes to work in his room when it comes to this.  
“I know I know I’m sorry-“  
“You don’t get to be sorry just get your ass down here!”  
“I can’t.”  
“Why not? The fuck am I suppose to tell them? ‘Hey sorry Richie fucking Tozier isn’t coming, have a great night’?! No! Listen, my friend, we can’t afford another slip up for your show. I know you must be having a rough time or something but if you’d just suck it up and-“  
“I’m going back to Derry.”  
There’s a deafening pause. The call is silent on either line, one side waiting for a joke to slip, the other waiting for a response. An apology would be nice too.  
“You’re fucking kidding me”  
“Steve I-“  
The call disconnects. He hung up. Best guess is that that means something like “fine fuck you I’ll get it done”.  
Richie rubs his face, moving his glasses around, stressed and frustrated. He recalls exactly two months ago from today was when he pitched his wild idea cautiously to the group, the losers.  
Or what’s left of them.  
His stomach turns.

“You’ve gone mad”  
Bill states, astonished, not stuttering one bit, completely confident in the statement. It’s then that Richie remembers Bill doesn’t stutter anymore. Why does everything have to be different?  
“Yeah I know I sound like Mike with the whole ‘Native American ritual’ or whatever the fuck”  
Mike is not amused, nor is anyone else.  
“Richie, this isn’t a joke, do you hear yourself?” Bev interjects, “I mean, it’s been 2 years he- he’s not-“  
“He’s not alive, Rich,” Ben finishes for her.  
Richie shakes his head and lets out a frazzled laugh, “if you’d just hear me through- I think I’ve got it down, really, it’s-“  
“Richie just stop.I know what it’s like: being in denial.”  
Richie’s face tenses up and he looks away, he speaks with a tense voice “I know I sound crazy but guys, he could still be alive!”  
Bev covers her mouth and looks away, her fingers suffer a tremor, a tick she gets now that Ben has successfully helped her to stop smoking (the correct way. Unlike that asshole Tom). Ben stands close to Beverly, comfortingly. Richie can’t imagine what everyone must be thinking.  
“We can get him back” Richie reinnherates in a small hoarse voice. Weak as ever. As weak and defenseless as the days Bowers spat in his face, deteriorating any last inch of self worth with a simple slur  
_ Faggot._  
He hears Bowers scream at him  
_ You’re just a fucking fag!_  
“Fine. Then I’m doing it myself!”  
They all go bug eyed, clearly not expecting such a thing  
“Richie, we were all there, the Well house is in ruins, there’s no way you’re going in and.. there’s no way he could’ve made it out” Ben states as he looks down.  
“Also, what could going there again trigger? We don’t know how this game works!” Mike adds  
“Mike..? Don’t say something like that. It’s over” Beverly assures herself and the room is left in a state of dreaming. Dreaming about the day It comes back. But that day won’t arrive. It’s dead.  
Finally Bill breaks the silence, “Richie, make me a promise that you will never go back to the Well house”  
Richie looks up at Bill  
“I’m not making any more promises” he mutters dejectedly, “now leave me alone…” Richie begins to coil up, like a round of bullets just waiting for a trigger to be pulled.  
They all stare. Sad gazes. They all leave.

Richie has had multiple calls from them since. He has answered them all. Mostly just “how are you” small chats. He answers them and says that he is doing fine or just dandy or maybe even elated if he’s feeling up to the lie. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that the group is worried for Richie, and Richie understands why.  
But he also understands why he has to do this. He moves up and out of his desk chair at last, picking up the sliver of paper that he had cut out earlier and moving it to the opposing wall, which is adorned in pins and yarn strings, stretching from one side of the wall to the other in some cases, other cases it is stubby and marches only a few inches off from the pin it binds and holds itself to.  
Richie carefully pins the descriptive entry to the wall, which had originally started as a cork board but ended up being much too small for his outrageous plan.


	2. Witcham Street

The air is heavy. The sky is a million shades of orange, smears of yellow and blue streak along the canvas of summer. The wind blows with an intimate breath, as gentle and teasing as a silk sheet that dances along skin in the middle of the night. Richie was walking home. He was the only one that had showed up when stuttering Bill decided he wanted to search the barrens again. He felt the light summer breeze, that was rather warm as of right now, brush past his cheekbone, shoving his hair out of his face for a brief moment. He walks beside his bike down a lonely street, leaves stuttering across the cement that is adorned with remnants of chalk. His worn out sneakers skid for just a second before recovering with the suave of a newborn parakeet. Richie’s hand hastily pushes his glasses up, smacking his brow bone with plastic rims.

_ Fucking Bill. Sometimes people disappear and don’t come back. I know it blows but that’s the truth! You bet your fur. That’s it. _

He chews the inside of his cheek. _ Why the fuck would I ever help him out in the first place? _he marvels partially at his compassion but then realizes that that might not be the most humble thing to do.

_ Sksk _

“What.”

He didn’t mean to say that out loud

“-The fuck?”

He had to finish.

He freezes for a second but then just keeps moving forward until

“RAWR!”

the approaching figure roars as he pumbles his prey and digs his mighty talons into the kill

“Stop that tickles you freakin freak!”

Richie says as he bats at Eddie’s face. Eddie eases at last and pulls his mischievous phalanges away. Rich straightens out his unbuttoned button down. He liked to call that a _ button up! _Some times. Anyway, he straightened up and looked at Eddie, staring at him suspiciously as if he might of just been an illusion of some sort. Eddie gave him a weird look so he stopped staring.

“Why are you here?”

“Because I was going to see if you guys were okay. I got scared that maybe someone murdered you”

“Okay well- you were thinking we were staying this late?”

“I mean, we’ve stayed later-“

“Well we didn’t plan on staying late today so yeah”

There was a silence. And then Richie starts walking again, his hands on his bicycle never having left. Eddie starts after him, no bicycle beside him.

“Sooooo, no one got murdered then?”

“Aioght govna’ yoi gawt ta give may a break hee’”

“That was so bad!”

He gets a few chucks and shoves Richie’s shoulder. Richie smiles over at Eddie. He enjoys Eddies presence he must admit. Hell, he enjoys Eddie in general.

Stan was Richie’s best friend. Stan knew everything about Richie’s unapologetic mouth. He knew when Rich was about to cross a line or say something completely off the wire.

Bill was Eddie’s best friend.

Richie knew he could never be someone like Bill to Eddie.

“Sorry, I can’t help the voices. They just come and go like- oh no- I feel another one- it’s- oh- yowza yowza yOW-“

Suddenly a sharp jab to the ribs is what floods Richie’s senses

“OW!” He screeches “rude! That hurt Ed’s!”

Eddie shakes his head, a displeased look, a hand running through his gravity defying hair,

“Don’t call me Ed’s.”

Richie suddenly drops his bike and Eddie screams for half a second at the unwelcomed clank the bike makes on the street, then pauses for an irritated and confused second,

“What the hell are you doing? You scared the ba-jeepers out of me!”

Eddie squawked. But Richie just went rigid and then turned around with his hand dramatically plastered to his forehead

“Oh Ed’s I… I think I might be coming down with something..!”

Eddie gets a feeling of dread and puts his hands up before his body defensively,

“No! Rich! Do not fucking fall on me I swear. I know what you’re doing!”

Richie didn’t doubt that at all. In fact, on the contrary, he knew all too well that Eddie was aware of the game he was pulling. It had been a stunt that was pulled many times before.

“Gravity is just… too much!” He begins to stagger toward Eddie and Eddie takes a step back, but to his dismay he is much too late, Richie lunges and swings himself into Eddie.

“Ah! I can’t keep myself up!”

He swoons into Eddie arms.

“Get off!”

Well… he falls on to Eddie.

Eddie always threatens he will drop Richie but he never does.

“Get off get off get off! Stop!” He whines, wrestling with young Richie T who can’t seem to back off

“I can’t help it! It! It appears I’ve-!”

Richie suddenly grabs eddies shoulders and looks up at him from his fallen crouched position

“Don’t you dare say it, Trashmouth”

“I’ve fallen for you~”

Eddie at last shoves Richie off and he giggles, standing up straight, resuming his tall stature again,

“Can’t help that lovebug Ed’s! For someone as cute as you? Oh gosh! I’m a goner!”

Eddie shakes his head with the fragment of what Richie can identify as a laugh.

Eddie crouches down, picking up the abused bicycle. He stands and pulls the junk with him. Looking down at the handlebars that are scuffed beyond belief. The bike had seen better days for sure.

Eddie looks back up, his eyes meeting Richie’s, and for a second they are on the same wavelength. Richie’s hand reaches forward, meeting the bike before it is even offered to him.

“I should be going home. Mom will freak out” Eddie admits finally.

_ Quick, say something stupid! This is way too silent and slow! Quicken that pace mate! Get a voice out! Whip that shit out! Arg! Ye bet yer bottom dollar I have anothrr trick up me sleeve! She a crowd pleaser ye! She ees- _

“I’m glad you came.”

Richie chokes out. Eddie looks confused so he continues

“To check up on us. To make sure we weren’t murdered”

“Bill wouldn’t of gotten murdered. It was mostly for you”

_ Mostly for I hm? Well ye sure are a cutie aren’t ye? A real shiny deblume! Well I ought to… ought to… ah.. what am I saying- _

Richie nods. His throat dry. But not too dry.

Eddie pats the handlebars awkwardly.

“See you later alligator”

Eddie says with a small smile

“After a while crocodile”

He finishes, a warmth flourishing in his chest. Eddie waves as if for a confirmation that they are indeed parting ways and then skips off, turning to a run.

_ How can someone be so _


	3. Well House

_Stupid_! Richie mentally scolds himself. The cool air of December 12th sweeps Derry’s frost bitten streets. Richie holds himself together as he walks. It’s dark and these intertwining roads give Richie the cold shoulder. All the familiar road names but only one is a dead ringer.

Neibolt street.

All those sleepless nights surely didn’t mean nothing. Richie slept alright, in fact, he slept so deep that the devil couldn’t wake him up- except it was recently. _The deadlights_ Richie thought, _the deadlights have to be the answer_. He is as sure as his hands are frozen that the deadlights are the answer to those dreams he had been having. Beverly had actually talked to Richie before about what he saw but Richie relentlessly refused to share. Bev talked about seeing everyone die and the nightmares she had. But lucky her, those nights were past her, just as gone as the scar that use to embed her hand. Richie though, had many restless nights. It boggled him at first, the dreams. The dreams that knocked the breath from him, had him waking in a cold sweat. He pinned it all on the deadlights. But there was one thing missing: how was he still having these dreams? The clown was dead surely. Right? Wrong! _Oh fuck how wrong we all are _Richie dreaded. How else would these dreams take place if the monster isn’t there to pull the strings? That fucking clown surely wasn’t around anymore, at least physically. Richie had it all down to a science, a science that only a mad man would believe if he had been dragged to Richie’s bedroom and saw all the red pins and yarn. All the hard work Richie swore into this. They had all killed It that fateful day, but they hadn't snuffed It. It burns like a rage that is brought on by the harshest California summer fires. _It_ is still alive.

That’s why Richie finds himself here on Neibolt street. He is alone. He knows it is insanely stupid, when he believes It still floats this battle ground of death and- and _leprosy_, his mind adds, recalling when a yound Eddie confided in him about that hobo. _Eddie_. Eddie was present. Just as haunting as It. Eddie loomed over Richie’s unconscious body every night, tormenting his dreams in a fashion only the puppet master himself, the devil, the clown, could grant.

His shoes scuff the ground with an irritation of a sound. He concludes that perhaps he is truly wishing death to bring itself upon him, perhaps manifest inside him. Richie comes to a sudden stop.

The smell of It.

It’s like it never left.

He shreds his dry lower lip with his teeth as his eyes trail up the road just a few meters, before falling to the right… and steadily trailing up yet again.

The fucking well house.

It’s rubble now. Obviously. As dismantled and disheveled as they left it. Derry deputy has seen the rubble of the Well house and had quite literally decided to do jack shit about it. In other words, everyone thinks it’s cursed. No one wants to be near this house.

Richie looks down the road, noticing all the houses look even more run down than the typical Derry charm.

_For sale. For sale. For sale. How many fucking people are gonna leave this place and why the shit isn’t everyone else getting that memo?_

Alas, he drags his gaze back to the deserted carnival. It smells of freezing damp leaves and rotting wood.. but it also kind of smells of

_Popcorn_.

Richie nearly bolts. He was right. He was fucking right. No one believed him

_No one believed me._

Then, as if on cue, a voice not his chimes in his mind _where is everyone? Richie, where are your friends? Where’s Bill? Beverly? Ben? Mike? Where are they? Certainly not here. No. No one is floating here. Not for years upon years. But you can float Richie. You’ll float for sure._

Richie found himself walking onto the deserted lot, ducking under the yellow caution tape to enter. He looks to where Eddie said he saw the Leper, where him and Bill had investigated when they were kids, only to find more horror. Only for Richie to feel like a dick for not completely believing Eddie.

_Float float float. We all float here._

Richie’s souls dig into the mushy ground, adorned with some sheets of ice here and here. It was a wet and cold day, only faint remnants of snow lay on the dead grass. _All of the grass is so high, _Richie thought to himself, trying to cling to an inch of sanity, although one chamber of his mind kept chanting _float float float! Yep! You will! Float down below! Come on Richie! Don’t you smell the popcorn? The dough boys and funnel cake?_

_I smell shit that’s for sure_ he muses in his mind. _The smell of disgusting shit._ As if the world is decaying so much it might cave in below his feet.

He walks in further, noticing the stone billowing up from the ground.

The Well.

The Well didn’t crumble

This is exactly what Richie had dreamed about the night it hit him.

Pennywise is still here, _he’s just in my fucking head._

Richie crouched down and began to shove the debris out of the way. Well the Police Department of Derry sure did do one thing, board this baby up. But Richie could defy the police if he so god damned pleased, so with minimal effort, he tore the boards off the well, looking down into its darkness.

_Okay well fuck me what the shit have I been planning??_

Richie was scared. As he should be. As he was as a kid. As he is now.

“Richie” the Well croaked. He shuffled back in alarm.

“No fucking way. Nope. No.”

_I should have never come_

“Richie I…..”

_Eddie_. That was Eddie’s voice.

“Ed’s....”

“Don’t call me Ed’s” a gargled voice chokes out.


	4. Aspirator

“Eddie”

“Shut up”

“Ed’s”

“Rich. Beep. Beep.”

Richie finally shuts his mouth. A silence filling the void left between the two boys. 

That’s right 

It was summer. And they should’ve been spending it outside. Instead, after the fight Richie had with Bill, he found himself here, with tensions high, beside Kaspbrak, in a Chuck E. Cheese. 

“I’ll get you a new one. I promise”

Richie finally chokes out 

Eddie however, is actually choking. Beginning to have the onset of an asthma attack. Richie feels himself freeze in place at the realization that he, Richie Tozier, just fucked yet another thing up, and that thing was Eddie Kaspbrak’s inhaler. 

He didn’t mean for this to happen! He was just messing with Eddie, who still didn’t know of the fight between him and Bill. 

_ He’s surely going to take Bill’s side when I tell him,  _ Richie thought,  _ they’re best friends!  _

Anyway-

He had taken the inhaler from Eddie and it got totally bonked out of his hand by some kid younger than them and that’s all that mattered. It skidded across the floor only to get crushed by some fat kid trying to play Ski ball. Too many kids. Richie was too old for this. Though he was the one who suggested coming here.

“My mom will actually go into cardiac arrest,” he wheezes “once she finds out my-“ he gasps “inhaler is b-bro-ken!” He starts to ease his way into a high pitched cry and Richie finds himself wincing, surprised his glasses aren’t shattering. 

“Hey don’t worry I’ll-!”

“Oh no- and of all places, HERE”

He begins to go into a flurry of panic. His oxygen levels descend and as if he’s on street fighter, Richie sees his health take intense damage from the dawning of the realization that they are at Chuck E. Cheese. 

_ Yeah this place is fucking disgusting haha wot wot  _

But now wasn’t the time for thoughts like that. 

Richie has shoved that fat kid on the ski ball machine away,  _ “crikey mate! Look a’ thuh size ah her! She a beauty ain’t she?”  _ To which Eddie cried that he couldn’t even tell what accent he was trying to do. The poor kid on the ski ball machine wobbled off without a word and Richie flipped off his back. 

Now they were both just staring at the shattered plastic on the disgusting floor of the Chuck E. Cheese. Why did Richie recommend they meet here? He shrugs off the thought. 

“My mom is going to have a bird once she finds out I’m here!” Eddie cries, Richie shakes his head. “Why? Is she a pirate?” 

_ Now isn’t the time trashmouth  _

Richie swallows harshly and looks around as if for an answer, then he kneels down and gathers up the broken pieces 

“Sorry I broke it.” He admits 

Eddie actually seems to calm down a fraction of a bit.  _ Maybe if you squint your eyes he’s better? _

Richie walks the sharp plastic bits and the dented air can to the nearest trash can, dumping them inside them patting off his hands.

“Come on lets go” Richie says as he looks over at a pink faced Eddie

But, not before they grabbed some soft serve. 

The boys sat at a bench, Eddie silently kitty licking his vanilla ice cream. The summer heat caused it to melt extra fast, so Richie on the other hand is taking bites into his chocolate frozen treat. They feast in silence. 

Once done, tummies satisfied and their fingers sticky, they sit there for a bit, neither sure of what to say. Richie takes a moment to hail that Eddie didn’t die of an asthma attack in a Chuck E. Cheese.  _ That would’ve been a terrible new heading on the Derry News Paper.  _

“So, Bill and I,”

“He told me”

Richie sits there, stunned.

_ He knows. Oh god. He probably hates me now. Richie Trashmouth Tozier just fought his best friend and now broke his aspirator, great, what a good guy I am _

Eddie must notice Richie’s internal crisis as he speaks up again 

“I agree with you” 

Richie’s Head hope up and he looks at Eddie as of to clarify what he just heard

Eddie nods knowingly. 

“I’m not a fan of dying either”

That’s right. The fight had been over that. It. Bill was being his usual self, marching into things without thinking about them..  _ and Beverly.. gee. She probably just sided with Bill because she likes him!  _

Richie lets out a dry laugh 

He hadn’t even been thinking about the illusions and the clown. He had been thinking about Eddie. _ Will Eddie hate me now?  _

_ Eddie will surely take Bill’s side. _

_ I don’t want to tell him. _

Since when was the problem if Eddie liked him or not? The problem should’ve been that clown that nearly fucking killed them. 

And now…….

Richie’s eyes looked down at Eddie's cast, a bad feeling swelling in his abdomen.  _ I did that _ . He knows he didn’t break Eddies arm that day, but he certainly snapped it back, and he did NOT know how to do that. Not that he’d ever tell Eddie that of course. 

“Richie.”

Eddie interjects Richie’s thought process. A common theme he has noticed as of lately. 

“Yeah?”

“I forgive you” 

“For?”

“The aspirator.”

“Oh”

He looks up at his friend, into his brown eyes. His dumb freckles and forehead. His dark hair. His thin lips and pouty face. He looked 

“Thank you. For.. well.. not hating me” 

Eddie chirps with laughter and then smiles up at him, “hate you?” Eddie chimes, amused that Richie could ever say such a thing. He takes a moment before coming back with a “Never”.

Now, Richie wasn’t a kid who knew as much about adult things as he let on. Like, sure he knew what sex was, but for a moment he felt so unaware of anything adult. He didn’t know what to think about a sudden word that flooded his head. A word he was thinking of that describes the moment him and Eddie just shared 

_ Romantic _

Yes. That was it. 

Richie just thought Eddie was romantic. 

A sudden impulse ran through his head to pull Eddie into a tight hug. But he did not act on this. 

Richie smiles something warm and home. 

“Yeah. You too Ed’s” 

“Don’t-“ he snorts before shoving Richie’s shoulder as Richie goes to pinch his cheeks, “cuuuute! Cute cute cute!” He teases as Eddie squirms and fights the onslaught of Richie motherfucking Tozier. 

For a moment there wasn’t a child killing clown on the loose.


	5. The System

_ The fuck?! _Richie tumbled backward and falls down to his ass, scooching himself backward in a panic attempt to get the hell away from whatever is coming out of the Well. He looks around as if to see if anyone else is seeing what he is but alas he remembers: he is alone.

“Richie…..” The ooze puking out of the stone paved well groans. Bubbles pop among its gelatinous bodice. Richie finds himself suddenly locked in place with fear as the ooze creeps forward, crunching grass beneath its way, till it slithers up to Richie’s ankle and grabs. Suddenly pulling him in with great force

“Oh fuck!” He kicks and grips at the dead grass, the black damp flecks of wood in the ground splinter his hands and he flinched away, sliding across the ground with ease for a second as a result. He anchors himself with a small yelp of terror, the substance grips his ankle with a bruising strength, pulling- suddenly a shadow looms over Richie, he looks up

Georgie Denbrough with a decayed face calmly states, “_ if you’re looking for Eddie, he’s down there” _

Richie only has a second to process before his back cracks upon his tale bone hitting the stone with an alarming _ smack _ , soon followed by a similar _ smack _of the back of his head-

Black. Then it’s only black as he is pulled down into the hollow abyss with static in his ears.

  


Children. Screaming. Oh the screaming. _ It’s so loud. _ Oh for fuck’s sake _ please stop! _ It’s like nails on a chalkboard. _ It’s like Eddies arm. _

Richie gasps awake, in a pool of water, his clothing clothing cool and drenched to his body. It’s cold but not like it was on the surface, here it’s more stale and stuffy. But what’s _ here. _

_ I know what here is _

But what’s _ in here _

Suddenly, Richie remembers how he got down here and looks around hastily, fists coming up as if a punch would stand a chance to that horror he saw earlier

“Anyone fucking there?” He yells out

“I swear I’ll fucking pummel your cum shot ass if you come back!” he screams out. But he actually hopes the ooze monster doesn’t hear it.

Richie groans and gets up slowly, his age wearing him out, though he is only 42 and doesn’t experience anything too much out of the ordinary.

He stares at his soaked clothing for a second before looking up and muttering a single “fuck” as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

He walks, his shoes wet as the slosh through the water. This place looks like it could collapse in seconds. Pipes hang from the ceiling (if you could even call it that) in a disorderly fashion. Like missing puzzle pieces, some connect to absolutely nothing. There is the faint sound of water trickling from somewhere. It almost sounds like footsteps for a moment, but then Richie realizes that the paranoia is coming to get him.

He walks about, taking in the scenery. He pulls out his phone.

_ I should’ve called them when I got here. _

No service

_ Looks like I’ll call them if I leave _

He shoves his phone back in his butt pocket and continues to mosey on. He crawls through some muddy pipes, some pathways are closed off, so he walks through unknown passages. He’s beginning to think he was lured down here to get lost and killed.

Not too far off maybe.

He finds a shipwrecked like area. He remembers this place.

_ You’ll float too _he thinks to himself

It makes him shiver. Then he thinks of George Denbroughs rotting flesh. It makes him hunch over and throw up.

He opens the wooden door on the ground before squeezing through the entree way.

  


He finally sees it. That small space they all had to squeeze through to enter that hell of an arena. It was there where

_ we left Eddie. _

Richie stares almost in disbelief. He can’t believe it. He’s really here. This is it. All of those nightmares of Eddie and that fucking clown, all of those visions, and we are here.

We are back.

_ We’re home. _

He walks toward it, crouching down to crawl through, and it all becomes so clear. He sees it all. Those spikes rising from the ground, odd and out of this world, that ceiling that he never wanted to see ever again.

Then he shutters,

What if It’s body is still there?

Body. The body. Eddie.

Richie rushes up to his feet and doesn’t even bother to look at that disgusting Clown’s body. No- his first priority is Eddie. This has all been for Eddie.

But

There’s no Eddie.

Richie stares.

_ Nono, I was sure this was the spot. _

He falls to his knees in disbelief, then he fixes his glasses and whips his head around

_ Eddie. Where’s Eddie? Where’s his body? _

Richie’s inner voice reaches a scream, reaches a sob his body just can’t muster right now as he stares at the spot he knew Eddie laid last.

_ How could we of left him here? _

_ How could we? _

_ What kind of friends were we? _

_ Left him here to rot with that fucking clown! _

_ How could I have done that? _

“EDDIE!” Richie finally sobs out. Screaming out for his long lost friend.

“No!” He whimpers out in pure disarray

_ He was here. I know he was. _

Richie rushes up to his feet and starts to panic.

_ Okay but where is his body then? _

Richie might of had hope that Eddie was alive, but not knowing where his lifeless body was was a whole other thing.

_ We left him _

_ Right here. _

Suddenly his shoes skid across the dirt and pebble flooring, he’s running around, looking around all those uneasy spires and jagged edges. This place reeks of death and decay. But there is no dead that are decaying.

_ Okay, _ he thinks as he finally stills himself, _ where’s the clowns body? _

He slowly turns to look at the center of the room, those blades of incomplete pillars, arms up to the hellish ceiling, in a circle to create the perfect grave ground for the devil himself. Truly is the underworld here.

His feet drag him, unsure but steady, to the cemetery of the room. He turns his body to fit in between those deadly spikes which he had thought killed It. It’s body was still there.

Okay.

_ Where the fuck is Eddie? _

Richie backs up in terror at confronting Pennywise’s disgusting dead body. His limbs are limp and rag doll like, deflated of his mockery (_ like a balloon _Richie’s mind adds). His hands still hang dead on his stomach from where he had clenched Mikes wrist. You could still see that concaving hole imbedded in It’s chest. Deep red and gross, tendrils of children eating stomach guts leak out and his heart strings lay snapped in opposite directions. His face is colorless and the clown makeup looks like tear stains rather than a jolly hot rod red facade.

_ I need to get the fuck out of here _

It’s all too much for him to process. He steps backward and slips on something

A ripped off clown claw.

It’s as if it’s slow motion. He turns his body just in time to see the on coming spike penetrate straight through the center of his hand.

  
  



	6. Kissing Bridge Bully

Richie stares at Beverly in wonder. He had taken the wild guess that her dad abuses her. It seemed like the only logical thing. Of course he wasn’t going to ask her this directly (in fact, she had admitted it indirectly before). No, today he had a different thing he wanted to ask

_ How do you deal with it _ danced on the tip of his tongue.

_ I just need to know how to deal with it _

  


It had been only a day since.. something happened. Richie wasn’t comfortable with admitting it to even himself.

No, he didn’t get an illusion or dream or whatever the shit like everyone else had

He got Henry Bowers.

And it doesn’t stop there. He also got Belch and Victor.

The three of them ganged up on Richie, nothing out of the usual of course, Richie was always pissing them off, but this time it happened a little differently.

  
  
  


Richie had only been staring at the Kissing Bridge. Sure he was standing on the bridge, and sure he had a switchblade he had taken from his dad’s toolbox in their garage, but he was in no way shape or form intending to carve anything down.

And he definitely wasn’t deterred by the carving of

“_ Fuck Derry Faries” _ or _ “SEND THE FAGS STRAIGHT TO HELL” _

Now, Richie wasn’t a faggot but he knew what they were, and that is exactly how he knew he wasn’t one. _ Or maybe because he knew how people treated them. _

Richie twisted the closed switch blade in his hand, wondering why he came here in the first place. He shakes his head and pivots on his foot, turning to leave.

He comes face first into Bowers chest.

“The fuck you doing here, loser”

Richie backs away in alarm

“I’m- uh,” he goes to start, but then trails off once he sees Belch and Victor approaching from the sides of him.

_ Quick, they’ll have your head! It’s now or never! Pull a Haystack! Jump the fence or something! _

It takes Richie two seconds before his body listens to his mind screaming at him. He scrambles directly behind his and turns to the fence. His hand touches the top of the wood railing, his switchblade making a small inaudible cling against it. His sneaker just barely meets the bar however, as he is pulled back by his arms suddenly.

He kicks as he is lifted from the ground by the bigger boys.

“Let go of me you fuckers! I’ll fucking stab your mothers womb to make sure she doesn’t have anymore of you sons of,”

But Richie isn’t able to finish, as a punch lands him solid in the stomach and his legs immediately lose their kick. The fury leaving his body as he dangles in Belch’s hold for a moment. Groaning in pain he looks up,

“Look at his fucking face” Bower’s comments to Victor as he points in Richie’s direction

“I’m right here, dip shit”

_ Stop egging them on! _He hears Bill cry in the back of his head

_ No, you have a weapon, defend yourself, rich. _Beverly interjects

_ Run! _Ben adds

_ It’s all your fault. Quit saying shit that’s gonna get you beat up _Stanley adds (non helpfully)

And Mike adds something very unhelpful, that being: _ if you see Bowers, just make sure he doesn’t see you. _

And _ Eddie. _

Bowers had Richie in his grasp, right where he wanted him. Richie was awaiting a villain like monologue from Henry. _ Henry. Yeah some intimidating name, the fuck kind of Villain’s name is Henry? You know, I think my great great great great grandpa's name was Henry or something like that. Sounds old as shit so why not wot wot _

“Listen here, pretty boy,”

“Think I’m pretty?” Richie couldn’t resist, and that lands another solid punch to his stomach, he feels Belch’s grip slip for a second.

Belch’s grip is sweaty. Slippery. _ I could escape. _

“I think you’re an idiot with a death wish!” Victor laughs and Bowers nods. Richie can feel Belch burp a laugh from behind him, his hands getting all the wetter by the second.

“Don’t sound too excited there, Tozier”

Bowers sneers in disgust. Richie shakes his head and goes to open his mouth

_ Beep beep Richie _

He shuts his mouth.

“We saw you walking down alone, you know there’s a murderer around here so you shouldn’t do something like that,”

“Yeah don’t worry, the big kids are here now” Belch chuckles and Richie decides that those aren’t the chucks he wants to hear right now

“But who knows,” Bowers continues, yes, yes this is the evil monologue, “maybe it’s the big kids you have to steer clear of”

Bowers is crouched, leaning down so he can stare into Richie’s face as if he’s a toddler, so Richie takes Beverly’s side of his mind and spits at him. A real nice _ (Eddie would be proud of the mass) _honkin’ spit wad right at Bowers face.

He flinched back in disgust and bats at his face hecticly, reacting a higher pitcher voice. Victor and Belch lookup. And their faces were all the confirmation Richie needed to realize he had once again made an awful decision.

“Agh! You fuckin- ugh! You brat! You sneaky little fucking-“ he cuts himself off to rip the switchblade from Richie’s cold grip. _ I forgot I had that. _He feels himself go cold

“You see this????” Bowers asks, sounding almost insane as he flicks the metal protrusion, a blade coming out at full force in response.

“You see it? Answer me, you fucking fairy!”

“I- I see it! I see it!” Richie finally yelps out, as the tip of the blade scathed his nose.

  
  


The bridge is mostly silent, you can hear the sound of leaves scattering

Beverly, Ben and Stanley are all hanging about. Richie had taken Bowers advice, he wasn’t alone.

“Bev.” Richie’s voice cracks. She looks at him, her short auburn hair moving lightly with the wind. She gives an almost ethereal glow. She smiles at him, “yes Trashmouth Tozier?” She says with a small giggle.

Richie’s hand moves up his arm and beneath the loose short sleeve that is his _ button up _ . He is wearing a shirt that says something about how the apocalypse is near. Richie had seen the shirt in Goodwill (Richie and his mother always went to goodwill as it was Methodist founded and they hadn’t been having the most fun with their money situation. _ Maybe they’re cutting your dad's hours _Stan had told Richie one day) and decided he’d buy it for the 10 cent price it was asking. He had recognized it was a shirt modeled off that new machine they had just pushed into the arcade. So he bought it with his allowance money.

Richie awkwardly stares down at his fucked up shoes. _ These aren’t the pair I usually wear _he thinks to himself as if to keep his mind away for a while.

“Richie,” Beverly starts up for him again, “what’s on your mind?”

“B-bow,” he starts to fast, he confuses himself of stuttering Bill for a brief second, “Bowers.”

She is unmoving as she stares at him, peaked with interest, “Bowers? Why’s that asshole on your mind?”

“I don’t know, just thinking about his mullet” he laughs

“Okay hah hah Richie very funny, now tell me what’s up”

That’s Beverly alright. She’s never tolerated bullshit. She has a great understanding for people in need. So anytime Richie tries to bail out of telling her something, she always knows.

“I got a tattoo” Richie states suddenly. Beverly looks confused, as if she’s trying to make sense of that series of responses.

“Wanna see?” He continues, sounding like he’s trying to say something more. Beverly catches on and slowly nods her head. Half expecting to see a tattoo, half expecting to totally not see one. _ Hell, this could be another one of Richie’s dumb jokes _

She thinks to herself.

But it’s not one of Richie’s dumb jokes she realizes as he pulls up his sleeve.

“Okay yeah so maybe I-“

“When did this happen?” Her voice is as gentle as a gasp.

Well it certainly was no tattoo, but rather chicken scratch, bloody and puffy on his shoulder.

Richie gives a quick scanning look over at Stanley and Ben, who are bonding over some worm or something on the ground, maybe a rock or a caterpillar.

Beverly moves closer, studying the mess of dead skin and dried blood.

“It happened here. Yesterday”

Beverly looks up to Richie’s face, then back down to his shoulder, “who else knows about this?”

“Only you” he states, realizing that Beverly was the first person who came to his mind when he wanted to tell someone.

“I just.. I need to know something Bev”

She nods, “anything!”

“Anything?” She elbows Richie and he laughs before sobering up to ask that dreaded question

_ Does your dad beat you? _

No that wasn’t the one

_ How do you deal with it _

Richie realizes the questions kind of link. So he asks it a bit differently,

“How are you so strong?”

She blinks and then breaks out into a laughter

“Oh Richie, oh silly silly Richie,” her giggles send sparks in Richie’s chest, _ she’s so beautiful. _

_ She’s so kind _

“I don’t like to act like anything else but tough. But it doesn’t take a tough guy like myself to fix that”

She says as she points at his shoulder. Richie groans and drops his sleeve.

“I just need to know how to deal with it”

“You don’t” she almost cuts him off, “you don’t, Richie. You find a way to stop it,” she leans forward and her voice dips to a more gentle one “no one should have to deal with that”

“Right back at you” he finds himself saying

She smiles at him and he swears he saw her eyes twinkle with something akin to hope.

  
  


“Get off me! Help! Fuck!”

Richie is kicking and screaming now.

His is being held down to the ground, Belch has got his arms and Victor has got his legs.

Belch holds his wrists with a punishing grip, still slick with sweat though. _ Gross. _Richie’s left shoulder digs into the ground, while the other one stays presented on top, sleeve shoved up.

Victor is quite literally sitting on Richie’s legs to keep him in place, holding his thighs when Richie decides he really wants to escape.

Escaping to no avail of course, as Bowers was straddling his side, focused on using Richie’s father’s knife.

The blade punctured his skin at last and Richie cried out in pain. His soft skin now laced in standing hair and goose bumps as the knife plunges below the surface every other second. Richie’s weak body goes rigid and results in staggered twitching.

Bowers, Victor, and Belch tease the struggling boy all the while. Mostly led by Bowers of course, as the other boys were a bit unsure of their actions.

The teasing started fun, like: _ “take that you faggot” _

But slowly it descended into: _ “I bet you like this don’t you, you fuckin’ cum guzzler. You like this don’t you? Three guys on you at once. The fucking dream for your kind huh?!” _

Richie sobbed hopelessly against the ground, his glasses disheveled and asymmetric on his face.

_ I can’t believe I’m crying in front of them _

Them. Them who are standing before his curled up body on the ground. Two of the three boys are staring at the blood soaking his shoulder with unease. The third boy, however, he was staring directly at Richie in his all. Bowers took in every inch of pain he could see stretched across Richie’s being.

Richie’s slender fingers wrap around the clothed wound on his shoulder. Blood seeps through the fabric, staining his hand as well.

“You’re lucky I didn’t want to do anything else” Bowers says with a guttural sense of sanity.

“see you around, cock sucker”

Bowers takes a skip in Richie’s direction one last time to nail him in the stomach with the tip of his dirty combat boots. Richie sputters blood in response.

He doesn’t know when they walk off but they do.

He lifts his head just barely to look around, blood acting almost sticky, connecting his busted lips to the ground. Blood and dirt clump on his chin. He coughs, saliva mixed with crimson spits out in flecks. Richie cries out in pain. His stomach hurts deep inside him, aching at any movement. His shoulder throbs as he moves to get off the ground.

Richie Tozier stands. He stands with his knees scuffed and his shoulder sleeve sticking to him with blood and pus. He takes a moment to adjust his glasses and pat off his dirty clothing, then it sets in.

_ I lost my dads knife _is all Richie can think as he stumbles home.

  
  


“Thank you, Rich” Beverly sings.


	7. Eddie

“NO” Richie suddenly screams out- but it’s too late. He’s falling and there is no way he can avoid the oncoming spire from sinking deep into the palm of his left hand.

In a split second, the sharp stone figure shoves its way through the center of Richie’s hand. Richie sobs out, his voice breaking. He throws his head back and groans, turning to a scream of agony. Blood spills down the floor’s sharp appendage, reaching the end of the spire and forming a small puddle at Richie’s feet. There’s so much blood. And there is quite literally a hole in Richie’s hand now. He can see his dead flesh hanging, splattered with blood, at the top of the spike.

For a moment, Richie could of swore he saw the stars. Bright stars.

_ **Then it all went black** _

_ **Or white one could say** _

_ **Yes! his eyes were white, as white as the moon!** _

_ **His hand just kept spilling blood,** _

_ **Spilling and spilling** _

_ **Till he was stepping in a puddle of his own plasma.** _

_ **We all float down here Richie. But you don't.** _

_ **You won’t.** _

_ **You’re not floating** _

_ **Oh how I’ve needed this.** _

_ **I’ve needed you. Oh how I missed you.** _

_ **Drip drop!** _

_ **Oho, the blood is gathering,** _

_ **Yes move your foot** _

_ **Just like that** _

_ **Yes.** _

_ **Oh how the blood flows** _

_ **Down the stream** _

_ **Down the road** _

_ **Into the gutter** _

_ **Where no one knows** _

_ _

_ **You’re floating Richie. It’s time to stop.** _

And we are back-

And we are. _High_?

Quite literally yes, Richie is indeed high, high off the ground- and he finds he only has that registered once he’s falling back to the ground.

“UGH-fuuuck!” he yelps as he realized that he did indeed float too. Again.

_I think I just broke my ass_

He looks around hectically, scanning the room for the clown. Then he looks up. The ceiling is still completely closed. So how had he been caught in the deadlights again? _I don’t understand._

he blinks for a few seconds and then suddenly he is hit by a train of pain. His head snaps into the direction of his left hand. It throbs. He sees his hand is indented and crimson. It looks as though his hand is folding in on itself.

Richie nearly faints, but he instead throws up. And that’s when he noticed the blood.

My blood is everywhere

_There’s no way that’s all mine_

He marvels at how he isn’t dead! Quickly, he gets up, his ass hurting from that fall earlier. His clothing was finally beginning to dry, but now here they are, soaked in blood.

Richie looks around to see the clowns dead cracking body lying limp in the puddle of blood. Richie’s blood.

_That’s unsettling._

_What am I going to do about my hand- _“oh fuck it hurts so bad holy shiiiiittttttttonmydick!” Richie carefully exits the center of the room, his shoes trailing bloody footprints as he slips between spires. He holds his hand to his chest beneath his maroon jacket. It looked much like his old one. But that one was with Eddie…. _Wherever he is._

Richie starts humming a jazzy tune to himself as he staggers around the room. A little in shock by what’s happening, hence him stumbling about like a lunatic.

_I should leave. I feel as though I’m going insane._

“Richie,” the walls whisper

“Richie, come quick!”

Richie’s face scrunches up

_I don’t want to do this_

“Richie!”

_But I’m going to._

Richie drags himself to where the room seems to be whispering from, finding a small passageway between the cracked stone walls. He squeezes through, afraid of being claustrophobic for a moment in time. The moment in time is quickly over however as he finds himself in a room. Nothing like the cave before. It’s now a warm room with.. candles lit.

Candles! And their wicks burn with a passion. Richie stares in disbelief.

_How are they still burning_..

_Somethings living here._

Richie backs up and turns to leave, only to nearly run over Eddie.

Eddie

_Eddie?!_

Richie stumbles backward quickly, colliding with the table that held the candles. A vanity. The mirror swings on squeaky hinges from him colliding with it. Hell, he’s nearly sitting on it, trying to get as far away as he can from whoever the hell that is.

_What am I seeing?_

Richie was seeing Eddie. Eddie the way he had left him two years ago. In that same shirt, except now it had a hole in it, a big ol’ tear in the torso. The rip loomed over itself so Richie couldn’t see past it. Couldn’t see what that wound must’ve looked like. Those same pants, except ripped up and dirtied to hell. Blood stains all over.

…._that’s my jacket.. still stained with his blood when he died._

He no longer wore that gauze pad on his cheek, instead it looked as though the stab wound had scarred, though it was a pink fleshy tone rather than white. His skin was pale and his eyes had bags.

He looked dead. But there he was, standing and looking just as shocked as Richie.

He still has those puppy dog eyes. The ones Richie still remembers and loves.

“Eddie” was all he could muster up to say. It sounded dry and coarse, small and weak. As if he was scared to talk. Scared something terrible might happen.

He could see it happening. Something terrible. He could see Eddie being just an apparition. Just a figment of his imagination, or maybe just an illusion the clown can still conjure up somehow. There was just simply no way this was Eddie

_Because Eddie is dead_ Richie reminded himself

But then he also reminded himself that he was the one who said Eddie might not be dead.

So why isn’t he sold? Eddie is standing right before him.

Suddenly Eddie moves fast- and Richie can just tell he’s going to turn into something from his worst nightmare, he just knows it- but Eddie just grabs a pipe that’s leaning on the wall and holds it up like _he’s about to bash in my fucking head! Holy shit!_

Richie ducks for cover as Eddie runs toward him and slams the pipe into the mirror, breaking it into a million shards that go flying across the floor.

“Holy fuck!” Richie yelps out. He looks up at Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s brows are furrowed in anger and also maybe confusion. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood to play around.

Richie quickly squeezes between the stones of the small entree way he came from, and he can hear Eddie’s feet work quick behind him. Richie feels fingers curl around the collar of his jacket- then it pulls- and he is yanked back into the room.

He falls onto his back (a common theme for today) before looking up in a flash, to see Eddie with the pipe held above his head, preparing to crash right down into Richie’s skull. Richie acts fast, shielding his face with his forearms as the metal pipe comes parading down on him.

_C r a c k_

His wrist. _I think my wrist is broken._

Richie screams out in pain

_Fucking faggot_

_You like this don’t you_

_We don’t allow fairies in Derry._

_“Hey fag, suck on this” Bowers said as he threw Mr. Tozier’s switchblade at Richie. Bowers held up a shiny silver knife, a switchblade much better than Richie’s father’s. “See this? Got this last Saturday” suddenly, Bowers digs his boot into Richie’s groin, resulting in an anguished cry. The boot twists and Richie claws at his ripped jeans. “Cry all you want little queer boy, I bought this with you in mind” Henry Bowers laughs something maniacal before holding up the blade above his head “I’m gonna fuck you up, Trashmouth” then, before he could even think of dignity, Richie found himself screaming:_

“STOP! please stop it! I’m scared okay?! I’m scared!”

Richie cries out helplessly. He doesn’t cry out as a man, no, but as a scared 13 year old boy. He gets a feeling of familiarity. A feeling he’s well acquainted with. Fear yes, but weakness definitely. He’s weak and helpless.

Eddie stops and looks down at Richie, his face softening into pure confusion. He almost looks troubled.

Richie opens his eyes, which he hadn't realized he had shut, to look up between his forearms. First, he sees his dangling wrist. _Definitely broken_. He has lost all feeling in his left hand at this point. Second, he notices how bruised and beaten up he’s getting today. And third, he noticed Eddie’s eyes.

_He’s so confused. He’s so scared._

Yes.

This must’ve been the boy he had fallen for when he was just a dumb middle schooler. Without a doubt.

“You,” Eddie finally speaks up, his voice sounding scattered. “You better fucking explain yourself!”

Richie shakes his head, confused.

“What the fuck do you mean?!”

“The fuck do you mean by ‘what the fuck do I mean’?? It seems pretty obvious! Explain yourself!”

“Well I think what I said was pretty obvious as well!”

They share a silence, heavy breathing as Eddie threateningly holds the pipe which broke Richie’s wrist.

Richie swallows harshly, “Wh-What do you think is happening?”

“What?” Eddie snaps

“What . Do. You. Think. Is. Happening?”

Eddie thinks about this for a moment, his suspicious eyes never leaving Richie.

“I think you’re just a fucking clown”

“I should’ve never left you down here”

He says suddenly.

_He’s so insanely afraid. I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s happening._

Richie finally speaks up again when Eddie just shakes his head because he doesn’t understand and doesn’t have the time to,

“I thought you were an illusion till you broke my fucking wrist” Richie says as he holds his left arm up, his hand still seeping blood and his wrist now bruised and deformed. Eddie’s eyes waver for a second, as if feeling guilt. But Eddie’s too smart for guilt in this kind of place.

“I don’t believe you”

“I don’t know what to believe either” Richie says breathlessly as he shakes his head. Staring at Eddie.

“No one believed me” Richie says as he slowly begins to get up. Eddie backs away wearily, almost expecting Richie to turn into a nightmare.

“No one believed me when I told them you were still alive” he suddenly begins to weep. Richie’s eyes spilling with tears which he had refused for far too long.

“Eddie… is that really you..?” He asks in a trembling voice. Eddie just stares. Suddenly he drops the pipe, his eyes wide and fixated on Richie.

“You came back for me” he says to himself in a beyond shocked voice. He stares before starting to twitch. He crumbles to the floor, sobbing like a child. “Richie..!” He sobs out “Richie I’ve been so lonely!”

Richie almost can’t process this

“It’s me! It’s Eddie!”

He did it

“I’m alive!”

He really did it

“Richie! Richie, I’ve missed you so much!”

_Eddie is alive._


	8. Lovers

Richie took a drag from the cigarette Beverly had given him. He sat alongside the Barren’s stream. The faint sound of water rushing over rocks and pebbles soothed his tense mind.

“Hey”

The smaller boy said behind him. Speaking quiet and gentle as to not startle Richie. Richie turns to look over his shoulder, smiling at Eddie before patting down beside him. Eddie trots up and drops to sit criss cross Applesauce beside Richie, beside the stream.

“I brought something” Eddie chimes in an uplifting voice. Richie looks over at Eddie, in his lap is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lunchbox.

_ Listen to the turtle! _ Bill chimes in the back of Richie’s head.

Richie was silent today. Silent because he should be. Silent because he was tired of all the stressors in his life. He was tired of hurting his friends, seeing murderous clowns, and breaking aspirators.

He came down to the barrens to spend time alone, but a walking Eddie (who had also planned on spending some alone time) saw Richie sitting alone and sad. So Eddie quickly rushed home to get something to make him feel better.

“What is in there?” Richie asked, finally speaking up.

“Oh just a little bit of,” he popped the tin lunch box open, “food”

Richie snickered lightly and took another drag from his cigarette, being sure to look away from Eddie when he exhaled the smoke out.

“You shouldn’t have” Richie smiles as Eddie hands him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that he had figured Eddie made himself.

Richie takes a moment to observe the sandwich.

_ Eddie is so sweet _.

“So.. did you get a new uhm..”

“Inhaler? Yes. Mommy got me a better one actually”

Richie nods

“Sorry I couldn’t pay you back”

“It’s okay, from what I hear you’ve been having a hard time”

“Where’d you hear that from?”

“Stanley.”

Richie looks away. He liked to confide in Beverly and not Stan. This is why. Stanley took any problem he saw Richie having and made it something professional rather than emotional. Stanley deals with numbers and facts _ that freaking Jew, _and Bev dealt with emotion. She seemed like the strongest without being too rash (like Bill, who was very rash).

“What all did he say?” Richie continues the conversation before taking a drag

“Not a lot, just that your money situation is shit”

Sometimes Richie thought Bev knew him best. Better than Stan.

She knew what he was hiding. Knew what he was going through.

_ I wonder when I’ll be able to see her again. _

But Richie quickly let that thought go as he realized that the fight with Bill had torn them apart.

“You know, I’m here for you,” Eddie suddenly speaks up, “you know that right?”

Eddie looks at Richie directly. His head turns to face Eddie, wide eyes. Shocked that Eddie is being so bold with his kindness.

“Yeah. Of course I know that Ed’s”

“Then don’t call me Ed’s” he says with a smile before biting into his sandwich and staring back out at the water.

Richie stares dreamily in the direction of his friend. His mind runs with all sorts of confusing thoughts for a moment.

Richie looks away and puts out his cig.

“Heer we go, okee, tiom tah ate some wee bread wit’ah peanut buttar n’ jelleh”

“What was that?” Eddie questions, getting some good chucks out of it

“Scottish I think,” Richie laughs.

“Gee… that was bad”

Eddie giggles some more all the while scarfing down his sandwich. Richie stares at the water, seeing the blue colors of the sky reflect in it.

He can’t help but wonder what things would be like if it were just him and Eddie against the world.

_ Hell, I’d be able to do anything. _

If it were just Eddie and Richie, Richie would give Eddie his all and he wouldn’t have to worry about what people thought about that.

But it wasn’t just Eddie and Richie.

It was the losers versus the world.

_ But right now, _

Richie looks over at Eddie, who’s wearing a smile and is now trying to skip rocks across the water.

_ It is just me and you, Eddie. _

Something warm just bloomed in this boy’s heart, something acquainted to cold days inside a warm house. A cup of cocoa and a magazine. That’s Eddie. Eddie was making his way into the center of Richie’s being.

“Eddie”

“yes?”

“Thank you” is all Richie musters out.

Eddie smiles at him. The sun sparkles over the water. “You too” Eddie says back.

Richie doesn’t know when it happened

But their pinky fingers certainly were interlocked on that day in the Barrens.


	9. Old Friends

Richie stands in complete awe, slack jawed at the falling apart man in front of him.  _ It’s really him! It’s Eddie! _ Richie reaches out slowly and cautiously, still not sure what to think of this situation. 

_ It could always be a trick _ he reminds himself 

“Richie! I- oh god!?” 

Richie notices Eddie’s look of horror and tricks his eye sight to see what he’s looking at. And of course it’s Richie’s arm, he just had to unknowingly reach out with the left one. The one that has a dangling wrist and a hole in the hand.  _ Right, haha, I’m dying of blood loss! Forgot about that. How the fuck do you forget about that?  _

“Oh fuck I’m so sorry- I did that- I’m so sorry, holy shit”

Eddie gets up to his feet, Richie’s eyes following him wide and disbelievingly. Eddie looks at Richie’s hand and then laughs exasperatedly. 

“Well I guess we are matching now, look!”

He lifts his shirt and that’s when Richie sees it.

_ Oh god  _ does he see it. In fact, He sees it so well that he thinks he might be scarred. Richie turns away to throw up. 

The wound on Eddie’s cheek might’ve healed up but the stomach one certainly hasn’t. It’s not a scar. No. No it’s not. In fact, he looks like a walking corpse to say the least. Eddie looks like a walking corpse. It’s a deep red, somewhat brown, fleshy tone. All around the rim of the wound is yellowish bruising. Richie can see dried blood and pus from where the wound much still be oozing from time to time. It has mostly healed for sure, for instance, you can’t see through him. But it’s disgusting to look at. Tendrils of flesh and guts lay limply stretched across the wound, muscle reforming in areas, and something white and mushy sticking out  _ right there.  _ Not to mention all the organ you see is  _ moving  _ everytime Eddie even dares breath. 

It basically looked like he was just missing coverage for his insides… but a little more torn up. And worn out.

_ He looks like a beaten in pumpkin.. _

It was so disgusting he couldn’t even get to see the fact that Eddie had a flat (oddly fit) stomach.

Eddie drops his shirt back down and quickly realizes that was not the smartest way to say  _ hey I haven’t been dead for the past _

  
  


“Two years?!” Eddie screeches, “I’ve been down here….. for two years?”

Richie looks from side to side, “well yeah, a few months too” 

Eddie looks as though he might faint.

“I had no idea it had been two years…”

The two men are sitting on Eddie’s “bed” which is actually just the floor with a rugged pillow and a few messed blankets that have seen far better days.

So they were sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall.

Eddie promised this was the safest place he knew of. 

Apparently, Eddie didn’t build this wooden room, it was just here. He added a few things sure, but most everything here was already here. The things he did add, he found around the system of tunnels and caves. He said he felt  _ guilty  _ at first for taking this stuff considering it might belong to dead children. But Eddie at some point realized he wouldn’t live if he didn’t take what was given to him.

Eddie explains what he knows. 

He woke up one day, with Richie’s jacked crumbled on his stomach. He didn’t remember what had happened at first, so when he pulled the jacket off his stomach to see a gaping hole, he wasn’t thrilled. It took Eddie a few days (he knows this because he found a watch on a skeleton near the  _ Neibolt Passage)  _ to remember what had happened. The clown. The losers. Richie. He didn’t have any recollection of anything that had to do with him being there. 

Eddie had planned to escape. But down here he keeps having these visions. Richie hypothesizes that the sewers are a connection of It, meaning when you’re down here, you will be hit in the head with paranoia and illusions. Richie thinks the Well house is included in this theory.

Anyway, Eddie had planned to leave, but every time upon leaving, he kept hearing a voice in the back of his head saying 

** _You’ll die without me_ **

And it always scared him into going back.

  
  


“And uh- does.. that thing hurt…?” Richie questions as he points at Eddie’s stomach

“Oh, not at all actually. But I think that might end if I escape” 

“Once you escape” 

“Yeah”

_ … _

The men share a silence.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie answers too quickly, nearly cutting Richie off

_ Man, it’s like this guy has been in a cave. Oh wait-  _

Suddenly Richie starts crying again

“You’re a real mother fucker you know that?” He jokes between sniffs

Eddie looks alarmed as Richie removes his glasses to dry his tears with his sleeve. 

“You’ve been down here for two years. And I spent those two years missing you. You’re an asshole!” Richie starts to laugh. 

Eddie almost thinks he’s crazy or gone mad

But then Eddie realizes he’s just happy. 

Eddie’s begins to laugh too.

“I can say the same about you, you dick. You’ve been missing me for two years but this is the only time you’ve looked for me?” 

Richie smiles and laughs, “okay cut me some slack, I was scared shitless”

Thy share some chucks and talk about how things have been. Eddie tells him insane stories of how there are some walking dead down here in the  _ Neibolt Passage.  _ He swears by it that they are not an illusion. He told Richie that he believes that’s how he’s still alive. Some supernatural force that comes with that fucking clown keeps the dead alive. Which is probably why Eddie looks like a corpse right now, he should be dead. 

_ “Looks don’t matter, love someone for their eyes,”  _ Richie hears Ben chime in his head,  _ “that’s what Ricky Lee told me and I thought it was beautiful” _

And Richie did love Eddie’s eyes. And they were still Eddie’s eyes. 

_ But logically speaking he looks great for what the fuck has happened to him-  _

Richie bets Eddie could look even better if he got some air.. some cool air. 

Suddenly, Richie is springing up to his feet. Except he isn’t springing because he is 42 and he has to put a little effort into it with a groan. 

Or maybe that’s because he was out of shape.

“I’ve got an idea!”

Richie says out loud cartoonishly 

Eddie shakes his head and lets out an amused sigh, “and what is that?”

“You should come with me” 

Eddie’s face drops, “what?” He nearly stutters

“You should come with me” Richie rehinerates, using hand motions as he talks to better get the message out. 

Richie continues in a serious voice, “to get the fuck outta here” and then he busts out into a smile, “what do you say?” 

Eddie looks at his feet then back up at Richie before deciding to get up with a lot more ease than Richie ( _ damn his approach was better and everything  _ Richie thinks to himself).

“I… don’t know, Rich” Eddie says, looking sheepish at first, then appearing almost sure. 

Richie doesn’t know how to respond for a second. He finally comes up with a jumble of words and spits it out, “what do you mean?”

“I-I mean-! I don’t know? Maybe: ‘Hey I’m fucking terrified to leave this place’??”

“Oh, okay, I can do without that shit” Richie says shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket out of the way, 

“Also, you’re terrified to leave  _ THIS  _ place?”

_ Who the fuck would be scared of NOT BEING HERE? _

“Beep beep Richie” Eddie says, unamused.

But Richie is even more unamused,

“Beep beep? Are you fucking kidding me Eds? We aren’t kids anymore. This is serious! Now, you’re coming with me and we are leaving. Eds. Come on”

Eddie shakes his head, looking almost betrayed

“Richie calm down. I’m just not ready. I fully intend on going back someday but right now I just can’t”

Richie looks almost out of his mind. He runs his hands through his hair, frazzled, disheveled. He knocks his glasses a bit. 

“No Eddie, you don’t get it!” Richie hastily pushes his glasses back in place, “I have missed you for so long, and now I have found you! That’s fucking incredible! But now you’re saying you can’t come with me?”

“Richie,”

“No. I fucking turned my room into a god damn scene from _A Beautiful Mind, _okay? I became a mother fuckin’ _conspiracy_ _theorist _because of you, aight? In fact! Why don’t we go? I can prove it to ya- oh wait, you’re refusing to come with me!”

Eddie shakes his head and steps toward Richie, his hands staying tightly secured at his sides. 

“Listen, I get it. I’m sorry. Sorry I  _ died  _ okay?” 

Eddie says with his eyes shut. When he opens them he sees a confused and hurt Richie. He looks worn out. 

_ But I’m worn out too  _ Eddie thinks to himself 

“I stayed down here for two years. I had to learn how to survive, I had to learn how to not be me. Don’t you get that? You should be happy I didn’t kill you when I first saw you!”

Richie Trashmouth Tozier sparks up, almost as if the child in him is ignited in a moment of nearly losing it,

“They all think I’m  _ crazy,  _ Eddie. Do you fucking get that? And maybe I am! So what if I’ve gone a little  _ crazy _ . Wouldn’t be the first time one of the losers had gone mad. Mike was fixated for 27 fucking years! Remember when he said he wanted to go to Florida or some shit when we were kids? Yeah, he really fucked that dream up! But me? I am mad for two years, fixated on how I believed you weren’t dead. I always believed it! I saw it! I saw it and I told no one because I knew everyone would hate themselves!”

Silence fills the room 

“What did you see…?”

Eddie asks suddenly..

“I saw you die… I saw you wake up.. that’s all really. It felt so fast”

_ I thought the losers would hate themselves for forcing me to leave an undead man. (But he should have died right?).  _ Richie finds himself lost in thought,  _ I mean, it was my fault. I couldn’t spit it out that I saw he was alive. I was just so disoriented I couldn’t do it. I was so confused as to why he wasn’t waking up quickly _

_ When did he wake up?  _


	10. The Walk Home

The boys were walking home from their own personal adventure in the Barrens. 

Pinky fingers interlocked, they belted out songs they loved. Singing as if no one in the world was watching. 

The sun was setting and it was time for Eddie to go home. 

“My mom will freak. You know”

“I know”

Richie had decided that he was done by the barrens too, though he only needed to be home before sundown. But sun down for young Richie Tozier meant leaving once it was dark. 

He said, “well then I guess I’ll leave too! What’s the point in hanging around this dump when I could walk cute lil’ Ed’s home!”

To which Eddie responded with a groan. 

It was only when the two of them got up (awkwardly at the same time) did they realize they had to confront the unspoken thing, the thing that was their pinkies grasping on to each other. 

“So…. are you gonna let go first?” Richie recommends 

“What? No! You do it!”

“Me? Why do I have to do it? You started it!”

“Did not”

“Oh, did too”

Eventually they just decided that it would be best if they  _ did  _ stay that way. 

_ “I mean, there is a killing clown on the loose. Two is better than one right?”  _ Richie had added, and Eddie nodded,  _ “Yeah I agree” _

_ We are better together than we are apart,  _ Richie allowed himself to dreamily think. 

  
  


“OOOOOOOH! I wanna dance with somebody!”

Richie sang at the top of his lungs, while Eddie reaches into his fanny pack to grab his aspirator. Eddie was damn near choking with laughter, losing air. He couldn’t help but want a dose of that shit tasting stuff. 

“You sound terrible!”

Eddie laughs, screaming over Richie’s singing

“Oh yeah? Not as bad as your mom sounded last night” 

“Oh that’s so not funny” 

“Admit it, you wanna chuck”

“You bet your fur I DON’T” 

“Bet  _ my  _ fur ya do” 

The boys laugh at each other, making faces, and ignore the fact that neither of them want to let go of each other. 

Their pinkies being interlocked meant something. It meant safety. They both felt safe having being able to feel each other there. Sure, they could just walk side by side like  _ regular boys _ , but they hadn’t wanted to. But their pinkies being interlocked also meant something  _ more. _

Something neither of them truly understood. Not consciously at least. 

Richie had the upper hand in this situation. He saw Eddie and knew his chest blew with emotion. He had finally just taken it for what it was (though he did have trouble with accepting what that made him).

Eddie was unaware of these feelings, though more prone to act on feeling, not knowing what  _ feeling  _ that is.

“Hey Eddie…?”

“Yes Richie?”

Richie’s pinky twitched and Eddie took note 

“Have you…  _ seen  _ anything recently? Like the.. the  _ stuff _ ” he struggled to get out 

“The.. stuff  _ stuff _ ?”

“Yeah”

Eddie shakes his head, “no I haven’t- well no,”

Eddie stops and looks up at the sky, then back to Richie, “I did have one thing happen” 

Richie nods, urging him forward. 

“It was a nightmare. Does that count?”

“Counts enough to me”

“....want me to.. talk about it?”

Eddie looks at the ground and Richie swallows hard. 

“Only if you want to, Eds”

“Don’t call me that” he says before sighing.

“I had a dream that I died”

Richie blinks, “you……?”

“Died. I died. It got me” 

He feels his stomach turn. 

_ How could his mind conjure up something so stupid?! No ones dying!  _

“Well you’re still here aren’t you?” Richie says, turning his body to Eddie. The both of them share a moment of silence before Eddie croaks out a small “Yeah”.

_ Yeah now I should shut up, I mean, I comforted him enough right?  _

“Eddie I,” words fail him for a fraction of a second, “I want you to know that no matter what happens… we are gonna be okay. You know?”

_ Okay it can stop there- _

“And- and even if.. the worst happens. Even if It finds us when we don’t want It to, or if we lose ourselves we- well,”

_ I’m rambling. Oh gosh. Oh boy. Yowza. I probably sound like a real dummy _

“.... well….”

Eddie is silent, and Richie doesn’t have the guts to look at him right now. But what Richie does know is that Eddie just slid his finger away from his own, only to replace it with his whole hand. 

Their palms press flesh to one another as Eddie interlocks their fingers 

“Well I don’t know.” Richie finally states,

“guess you just can’t leave me” he looks away as Eddie stares in admiration. 

“I won’t.” He says with a smile 

“Good. Or else I might have to thump ya across yer head” 

“You’re phasing into a voice again” 

“Sorry” 

“So what about you?” Eddie asks as they start walking again, hand in hand. 

“Hm?”

“Have you seen anything?”

Richie takes a moment to think about this. 

_ Should I tell him about that time Paul Bunyan chased me around?  _

“Well there was this one time where.. ah..”

It was then that Richie remembers the leading up moments. The reason he was sitting alone that day. 

Henry Bowers. 

That fucker had embarrassed me at the arcade. 

And his cousin….  _ I guess there ARE fairies in Derry then! _

Richie looks askance for a moment before pushing up his glasses with his free hand.

“I had just left the arcade when I was walking through the park and I noticed that hideous ass statue was gone. Ya kno, big Paul my boy. Yeah he chased me, tried to kill me with his.. stabber.. thing”

Eddie covers his mouth, moved by Richie’s story. 

“That sucks”

“Yeah, blows major wang” 

_ You can also tell him about last week _

Last week he had hallucinated that Bowers was in his restroom calling him a fag, covered in blood, but he decided against telling Eddie that one.

“Well I guess this is my stop” Eddie says

“Well I’ll talk to you later, Richie- oh! One more thing!”

But at that moment, the door of the Kaspbrak household swings open, and the mother steps out. She sloshes with each step she takes, the earth rumbling with her every step. Why yes, this just might be the boss battle for Richie. An overprotective mother was the last thing he needed. 

In seconds, Eddie rips his hand away from Richie, leaving him cold. 

“Eddie! Oh Eddie baby! Where were you!?”

“I told you mommy, we just went over to Bills”

_ Bill. Yeah. Of course “we just went over to Bill’s”. _

Richie knew he was saying this because he didn’t want his mom to know that they were at the Barrens. But the acknowledgment that Bill is Eddie’s go to hurt Richie nonetheless. 

“You!” The Kaspbrak blob said 

“Get away from him! Away!” 

She hobbled toward the two and jerks Eddie from Richie, who had the audacity to say “what the hell?” under his breath. 

“I know all about  _ you”  _ she says, her voice full of dread the moment she said ‘you’.

“I don’t want any of your kind around my son” 

“Mom!?” Eddie screeches 

Richie’s eyes widen, knowing immediately what she’s talking about. 

It’s like Bowers.

Except instead of feeling fear, Richie feels anger 

“My kind?!” He suddenly exclaims 

“Yes! You dirty mouth boys! Keep your slurs and curses away from my son!” 

_ Oh. Right. _

He’s Richie Trashmouth Tozier 

Not Richie the fag. 


	11. Settling In

Richie had been ripped from Eddie once again. Except he had left him behind by his own decision. Eddie and him had talked about why Eddie felt scared to leave. Eddie was scared he would die the minute he left. Scared that the weird force in the sewers that kept him alive would no longer work if he left. Richie suddenly feared that as well. 

So he left him. 

It was a treacherous hike back, but Eddie helped him through it, as he knew the underground much more than Richie at this point. In fact, Richie wouldn’t doubt that Eddie knew more about the sewers and underground than Bill.  _ Maybe even more than Mr. Denbrough. _ Richie was never a fan of that guy.  _ Shitty father after Georgie died. _

Eddie said goodbye when Richie met the Well. He had to climb up and he would be out. Richie looked at Eddie for a brief moment. Then it turned into a not planned long moment. 

“Eddie, I'll come back” 

“I know you will”

And so Richie climbed out of the Well, greeted with the frosty winter day. 

_ I supposed I stayed here all night _

Yes, It was December 13th. It was currently 12:14pm and the dull Derry Sky was streaked with light grey clouds. Clouds that rained snow. 

Richie felt one turn wet on his forehead

_ God I hate my forehead  _ he thought as he climbed out of the well.

He gets up and pats himself off when he remembers that odd ooze creature that jerked him into the Well.

_ That surely wasn’t an illusion! It fucking pulled me in! _

Richie spins around to look at the well, but only for a split second. Because now he is sprinting the fuck away from Neibolt Street.

  
  


Richie is currently in a cab on the way to his bougie hotel that was most recommended in Derry. Richie was the kind of guy that looked up everything. And the Internet said that this hotel was pretty sweet. 

So Richie trusted it. 

In no way shape or form was he going to leave Derry till Eddie could come with him. 

But now this meant he had to call everyone. Richie leaned his head back against his car seat and wondered what they would all think. 

_ Would they doubt me? Or think I’m crazy?  _

Richie pushes up his glasses and pats his lap in an anxious manor, 

_ Let’s just get to this fucking hotel and get these calls overwith.  _

  
  
  


Richie reaches the hotel, gets into his room and collapses onto the bed. The room’s dim lighting adding to how bad he wants to sleep. 

He pulls himself up and grabs his phone

_ I really don’t want to call them _

He sits there, debating what to do. Deciding that’s for a later date, he looks at another problem at hand. His left hand more specifically. 

He slowly pulls it from his jacket and then nearly screams when he sees it. 

It’s healed. Like. Not good at all. It looks a little worse that Eddie’s torso. Which is fucking disgusting. 

Richie quickly gets up to throw up in the hotel toilet. 

Then he leans on the sink, looking at his hand and contemplating what to do. 

_ Gauze… or bandaging… I just need to keep this covered. No one needs to see this shit…… except for thE LOSERS! HEY!  _

That idea put pep in Richie’s step. He trotted back into the hotel room and sat on the edge of his bed. He avoids eye contact with his left hand for now as he dials up  _ Beverly Marsh _ .

He rings for a moment before she answers 

“Richie Tozier what do you have to say for yourself?!” She yells through the phone 

“What? What did I do?”

“You’re in Derry aren’t you?”

Richie laughs nervously

“Okay this wasn’t how it was supposed to go- who told you that?”

“No one did, I just noticed you had a show canceled. And that’s kind of a big deal”

Richie groans in defeat. Yeah all the Losers watched his shit now ha ha ha very funny. 

“Okay so what I’m in Derry?”

There’s a small silence 

“So… did you look?”

“... yeah” 

She hesitated before continuing,

“What did you find?”

Richie didn’t expect to feel this way. Suddenly his emotions were crashing as soon as he muttered out: 

“Eddie.”

He backs away from the phone and catches his breath, getting his shit together. 

“Richie, are you fucking with me right now?”

Her voice is trembling 

_ She believes me _

“No! No I am- I am absolutely not fucking with you. I 100% saw Eddie” 

“Wait But was he…..”

“He was alive” 

Richie hears her scream on the other side of the line for a second. Richie hears a small “oh my god” before Ben enters the picture. 

Richie listens in to their conversation 

“Hey, honey who’s on the phone? What’s going on?”

“Ben. It’s Richie”

“Oh?”

“He… he’s in Derry”

“What???”

Richie couldn’t hear Ben for a moment 

“Is he out of his mind?”

“Ben… he.. he says he… oh gosh. Give us a second honey hold on”

“Bev..?”

The phone is silent for a while. Richie can hear doors shutting and opening for a second and then Bev sighs. 

“Okay Richie I’m sorry, I’m back… tell me more”

“He’s been surviving down there- it’s crazy- it’s all supernatural and shit”

“What does he eat?”

Richie cringes as he recalls when he asked Eddie that a few hours ago

_ “So what do you eat?”  _

_ “I don’t”  _

_ ….. what?  _

_ Surely Eddie misheard Richie.  _

_ “No, I said what do you eat?” _

_ Eddie looks at Richie with a ticked expression  _

_ “I said: I. Don’t.” _

_ Richie’s face peaks with confusion _

_ “You don’t..?”  _

_ Richie scans Eddie. He looks the same. Like. He has not lost weight. He’s the same!  _

_ “I don’t. I thought I was going to die of hunger down here at first, but I never did. And then I realized, I don’t get hungry down here”  _

_ Eddie looks away and continues, “sometimes my mind wanders and I wonder why it’s like that… like.. how am I alive? Am I feeding off some sort of energy in here…?” Eddie shakes his head  _

_ “I know it’s stupid. But I wonder” _

_ Richie shakes his head as well, “no. Not stupid.” _

  
  


“I don’t think I want to talk about that” 

Richie responds to Beverly. She just drops it, not sure if she wants to know what that means.

“So.. so what are you getting at Richie? What does this mean? I mean… this could mean something bad when you think about it”

“Yeah. I know. Trust me I know. I think I want everyone to come… to come down to Derry”

“Oh,” she says with an all too knowing tone, “and how exactly are you planning to do  _ that _ ?”

Richie laughs nervously, “Well I was hoping you would ah… work ya magic, girl”

Beverly laughs. 

“Sure thing Rich. But! You better give me something to prove it to them!”

Richie pauses “Yeah about that… Eddie isn’t here”

“..... what?”

“He didn’t want to leave”

“He didn’t want to-?!”

“I know I know! I’ll explain it all later, but as of right now…” Richie trails off 

Looking at his hand 

“The only proof I have is my hand” 

“Your hand?”

“It’s… it’s disgusting.” 


	12. Ice Cream

The losers were at peace. Pennywise was dead. It was time for a day at the Barrens. 

Bill had called everyone’s home phone, saying something like 

_ “I-I-Wanna build a d-am in the b-b-b-baarons!... again” _

_ “Didn’t we get in trouble for that?” Richie respondes. He was talking on the wall phone in his kitchen, his mom was currently making breakfast. Mrs. Tozier turns her head from hearing her son say such suspicious words.  _

_ “We can t-take it down! I j-ust want tuh-tuh build a dam and h-hang out with you guys. The losers” _

_ Richie nods his head and decides that Bill is right. Besides, Bill was a pretty cool guy. Richie always thought of Bill as the leader of the gang. He just had that aura to him that he’s the main character. _

_ “Alright! What time, mi ameego?” Richie butchered his basic Spanish. Especially the accent.  _

_ “Two o’clock” _

_ Bill was one of those kids that liked to say “o’clock”. Richie wasn’t one of these kids, he thought that was a little dumb sounding. So yes, he mocked it all the time. _

_ “Alright stutterbuttercup I’ll be there there” _

Richie smiles over in Bills direction, who is in the stream. Ben is showing Bill how to make the dam again. Stanley hovers beside Ben’s shoulder, listening to his knowledge on building, well, anything. Beverly is smoking a cigarette, and Richie knows he will certainly ask for one later. Hell maybe Bill will join in a smoking session.

Eddie certainly will never smoke in his life. 

Eddie is sitting beside Richie, staring out at the three boys creating a dam.

It was just all so perfect. Bowers was gone. The clown was gone. Life was good. 

Mike returns with some wood planks 

“My folks had some in the shed. Said I could use em” he says as he tosses the wood on the dry ground. Bill lights up with excitement.

Yes. They could build the dam Ben had planned out. 

Ben promised this dam was better than the last one. The one that had apparently been a  _ pretty good fucking dam. _

“Alright everyone! I’m gonna go get us some ice cream!”

Richie announces loud enough in his hero voice so all the losers can hear. 

Everyone perks up, interest sparked

“H-how?” Bill questions 

“I got my allowance money double this month because I’ve been helping my mom cook”

Beverly gets up and tosses her cigarette

“Want me to come with you?” 

Richie smiles “if you want to”

They share a mutual warmth for a moment 

But then that moment is broken by Eddie rushing up to his feet,

“Can I come too?” 

Richie looks at Eddie, shocked only for a moment at how sudden that was, 

“Of course my good ol’ fellow!”

Beverly laughs gently from behind the two boys 

“Thank you for doing this” Beverly says as she walks with her hands behind her back. 

Beverly was wearing a loose dress that covered her denim shorts. The dress was adorned with a floral pattern and her short puffy sleeves held a bit of lace. She wore a necklaces hat dipped beneath her clothing. Her shoes were cheap, beige, worn out flip flops. 

“It’s no problemo” Richie responds. His shoulder had begun to scar over from where Bowers chicken scratched him. He kept it hidden and found himself still not telling anyone else other than Beverly. Richie was adorned with a short sleeve palm tree button down, it was of course lazely left open to expose a heathered blue shirt with three horizontal orange stripes on the chest area. He wore his trusty cargo shorts that came right above the knee. 

Richie kicked a pebble over to a pair of pristine brandless tennis shoes. Those shoes were Eddie Kaspbrak’s. He kicked the pebble along as well. He was wearing a white polo shirt, his trusty fanny pack, and blue shorts. His socks road a good four inches above his ankle today. His watch stayed glued to his wrist. His fanny pack stayed affixed to his hip, jingle jangling every now and then with pill and vitamin bottles.

“Richie, you really are outdoing yourself on this one man” Eddie says, marveled at Richie’s random act of kindness 

“I was just feeling for ice cream and decided,  _ why not get my friends some too! _ I have the money”

Eddie nodded at Richie’s response as Beverly lagged behind, taking in the scenery.

At last, the three kids reach a small gas station. Richie walks up and holds the door open for the other two. Beverly giggles out a ‘thank you, Richie’ and Eddie just walks on in. 

Young Richie trots in to the store. Isles of bagged foods and candies caught his eye, but he also saw beers.  _ Beer.  _ Richie thought  _ I really want one.  _ He toyed with stealing some but decided against it, as he had never even tried beer before.

“I should’ve asked everyone what they liked” 

Richie states as he looks at the cooler before him. His arms are crossed and his brows are furrowed, thoroughly thinking through his course of action. 

_ Does Bill like ice cream sandwiches?  _

Richie sighed. 

Beverly walks up beside him and slides the freezer door open. She reaches in to grab a push up pop.

_ Oh cripes! What does Stanley like? Shoot. Fuck. What if he’s a push up pop kind of guy?... no fuck that- Stanley is cookies and cream kind of boy. _

Richie snickers to himself at the thought 

“Whatch’ya thinkin’?” Beverly asks, leaning against the wall. 

“I’m thinking a whole hell of a lot”

“That’s shocking”

“Okay that wasn’t necessary” 

Richie sighs out and adjusts his glasses,

“I don’t know what everyone wants”

Beverly straightens up. Her brow twitches into a furrowed position but only for a moment. She then nods her head and smiles.

_ Oh Richie _ she thinks to herself.

“How about you just get them all ice cream sandwiches?”

“But what if they don’t like them?”

“Ben does!” Eddie chimes in, recalling when Ben and him had discussed their favorite foods. Eddie enjoyed small talk. 

“Yeah well, Ben likes everything!”

Beverly gives Richie a look at that comment 

“Listen, they get what they get and they don’t throw a fit. Right?”

Bev smiles something radiant. Something that makes Richie realize she’s right.

He nods “Okay you sold me. LOAD EM UP MY GOOD FRIEND!” Richie exclaims as he pats Eddies back harshly. 

Eddie shoves Richie and they both quarrel for just a moment before Beverly slides the cooler door open and they begin grabbing ice cream sandwiches. 

Except for Beverly. She got a push up pop with Scooby doo on it. 

The gas station cashier was happy the trio bought their goods and went on their way.

And suddenly they were running. Just three kids running, one clenching a brown plastic bag full of ice cream sandwiches. That one was Richie Tozier. He ran down the crappily paved street, jumping and hollering. 

Richie suddenly dives into action, shoving the ice cream bag into Beverly’s arms and then speeding over to his trusty sidekick. Eddie joyfully screamed with laughter when Richie suddenly shoved him and said  _ “tag!” _ The smaller boy immediately sprang into a sprint, running as fast as he could to catch his annoying friend. Eddie was sure of it;  _ this is the fastest I’ve ever ran.  _ Richie was actually thinking the same thing at that moment. 

_ We are running so fast  _ he thought. But he also kept thinking about this adrenaline he felt. 

They were young

And they had survived. 

Eddie finally catches up and gives Richie a hearty shove with his good hand. Richie comes to a stop 

“No take backs! We are here! Games over!” Eddie yells victoriously 

“You only caught me because I was slowing down”

“Why were you slowing down then hm?”

“Because we are here!”

Eddie looks away and mutters  _ “oh yeah, right”  _ sarcastically. Richie snickers and bats him upside the head. Eddie jabs his side in retaliation. It’s then that Richie sees how heavy Eddie is breathing. They were running awfully fast, Richie is out of breathe as well. 

_ But Eddie isn’t using his aspirator _

Eddie heaved with a happy flushed face

_ Why doesn’t he need it right now?  _

“Richie! Eddie! Did y-ou get th-the,”

Richie gives him a thumbs up and yells, “yep!”

The dam is looking pretty good. They have built up a stone wall and now need to put those boards wherever. 

_ How are they gonna make this again? _

Richie wasn’t listening to that conversation. 

Ben rushes up to his feet, he was previously pressing mud in place as cement for the stones. 

“Where are they?” He asked with excitement 

_ Classic haystack _

“They uh- uhm…?”

Richie looks over at Eddie, who shrugs. Then Richie looks back at the road, where just then a Beverly is calmly walking up, dancing slightly to her own little tune. 

She hands the bag to Richie, her other hand holding her push up pop 

“Thank Richie. Come have a smoke with me when you’re done with passing out the goods will ya?” 

Richie nods “yeah. Sure thing” 

She walks off and sits in her designated spot, an area on the rocks that has a blanket she had brought sprawled over it. 

Richie looks back over at Eddie, and Eddie looks back at him. Richie smiles and then pulls out an ice cream sandwich, hanging it to Eddie 

“Thanks Rich”

“You’re being so cute, Ed’s. Hope you enjoy that” 

He says as he walks off. He hears Eddie groan behind him from the teasing but he doesn’t say a word. 

Richie walks over to the edge of the stream and four boys come running up to him. 

“What did ya get me?” Stanley asks with a smile 

“I got us all ice cream sandwiches” Richie says, beaming more than he intended to. 

He feels good. He’s happy he decided to use his extra money on getting his friends frozen treats.

“Yes!” Ben says as he takes the goody offered to him by Richie, “you’re the best” 

Ben unwraps his desert and takes a bite, humming a sound of satisfaction. 

Stanley looks at the bag skeptically, “they’re probably melting by now” 

“They are just a little but it’s fine” Ben adds 

“Refuse what I bought for you and you're gonna be lucky I don’t melt your face” Richie shoots back at Stanley 

Stanley laughs. Richie smiles. This was just how they communicated. 

Stanley grabs the sandwich as Mike takes the bag and Bill reaches in to take his own ice cream. 

“Th-thanks R—Richie”

“No problem” 

“You rock” Mike adds, handing the bag with one ice cream sandwich left to Richie

“I know”

Mike snorts and shakes his head, waking back over to the dam. 

Richie takes a second to look at his job well done. His eyes scanned over all of his friends enjoying their gifts. Everyone was except for Beverly, who had already finished her push up pop and was now smoking a cigarette. 

Richie makes his way over to Beverly and she smiles, scooching over for Richie to sit next to her. And Richie does, he sits down beside Beverly and asks for a cigarette. 

“Alright Trashmouth. Just don’t blow it in my face like last time” she giggles as she pulls out a wrinkly Marlboro case from her pocket. Her delicate fingers dust the four cigarettes left in the pack, she pulls one out and hands it to Richie.

“Thanks, Bev” 

“You’re welcome” 

Richie places the filter between his lips as Beverly rises a lighter to the tip. She strikes her Zippo and lights the butt for Richie. 

He inhales and puffs out his cheeks full of smoke, before letting out an audible puff. A cloud of smoke lingers for only three seconds. 

“So… what took you so long to catch up?” 

Richie asks, the tobacco between his middle finger and pointer. Beverly laughs in a soft voice before turning slightly to look at Richie. A knowing side glance. Richie knows this look. It means Beverly knows more than him. 

“Well…” she starts, tapping ash off her cigarette with a small  _ bap  _ of her finger, “I had started to run after y’all after you bailed your luggage on me” 

Richie snickers. Yeah he did just shove the bag in her arms didn’t he? 

“But then I realized I didn’t feel like running and I stopped. I saw that you two were having a real good time” she smiles at the ground for a moment, then looks back up

“You and Eddie are good friends, yeah?”

Richie feels like a deer caught in headlights. Surely there was no way Beverly knew of the things Richie thought about. No one but Richie knew those things.  _ It did _ .

“I guess so. Who wouldn’t be swayed by my charms? Aren’t you in love with me?”

She laughs out, causing Bill to turn and look at her for a second before resuming the dam build. 

“Not quite, Richie. Not quite” 

She takes a drag and Richie follows 

“So… why do you care?”

“Hm?”

“About Eddie and I”

“Why? Is there something you want to know?” 

Richie sits there for a moment, thinking this over. 

_ She’s playing games with me. I know it. Maybe she’s teasing me _

Richie furrows his brow and takes a big puff

“Nah. There’s nothing” 

Beverly rolls her eyes 

“If you say so Richie” she says with a smile 

  
  
  


It’s getting dark, everyone’s bellies are full, the dam was built (only to be painstakingly torn down as instructed by Bill) and the losers were all going home. 

Ben was the first to leave, as he had to rush home for a late dinner. Beverly and Bill left the barrens together after Ben left. Eddie leaves shortly after those two, as his Mom was expecting him at 9:00 but it was 9:02. 

So it is just Richie, Stanley, and Mike. 

Richie walks down the dark street, talking nonsense about some show he saw that sucked. Stanley argues that Richie doesn’t know enough about what he was talking about. While Mike is suddenly coming to a dead stop. 

Stanley keeps calling out Richie, walking along. It’s only when Richie grabs Stanley’s arm does Stanley turn around and realize what Richie already has.

_ Where’s Mike? _

Stanley hurries home after Richie persuaded him that he’s “got this”.

“If something bad has happened to Mike and you just told me to go home, I’m gonna be so mad at you”

“Yeah yeah, go home Stan”

“I’ll see you later Richie”

“See ya around, Stan the Man” 

Nervously, Richie drags his feet through the dark lonely roads of Derry 

“Mike?.... Mike!” 

He calls out for his friend but to no avail

_ I’m going to find him and yell at him for scaring us like this _

Richie turns on to Witcham street to find a lonesome Mike standing, looking at the sewer drain. 

Richie swallows thickly, standing there for a second. Suddenly, memories pop up. Memories of It. Richie pushes these aside and forces himself forward. He walks toward mike, stopping only a few feet away from him 

“Hey man.. what are you up to?”

Richie says, breaking the suburban street silence.

“You see that?” Mike says, pointing at the grass just above the drain. 

A popped red balloon lays flaccid in the grass. 

Richie blinks, a bead of sweat trailing down his forehead. 

“Yeah… I see it. What of it?”

Mike clenches his jaw. Clearly wanting to say what no one wanted to hear 

So Richie starts up again before Mike can begin 

“You know, there’s that Derry carnival. I’m sure it’s just one of those dumb ‘I heart derry’ balloons or something” 

Mike shakes his head 

“But why is it here”

Richie’s throat suddenly feels incredibly raw 

“I don’t know.”

They both stand there on Witcham street, staring at the dimpled rubber lying limp on the grass. Richie adjusts his glasses and clears his throat 

“We should be going home. Mike?”

Mike stays silent for a few seconds longer before turning to Richie and nodding 

“Yeah. You’re right” 

So they part ways and go home. 

Richie is tormented by nightmares that night.


	13. Moving Forward

The register slams shut and the clerk of the drugstore groggily hands Richie his change. 

Richie takes it from the disintegrating elder’s hand, refusing the receipt and then walking out to his rental car. 

He throws the plastic bag of bandaging in his passenger seat, then walks around to the driver side. He pulls the door upon and gets in, sighing when he sits down. Richie shuts the door and locks the car, sitting there for a moment, contemplating what his next move is. 

He looks over at the bag in the seat next to him then vaguely to his hand shoved in his jacket. 

Richie was now wearing a buttoned short sleeve with pineapples on it and some faded, washed out jeans. He was wearing a pair of sandals that he had since he was a teen, they were gifted to him by Stanley 

_ “Take good care of them, they cost 30 dollars” _

_ Richie’s jaw dropped. The 17 year old had never owned a pair of shoes above 15 bucks. _

_ “Holy shit Stanley. Trying to get on my good side or something? The shit is this for?” Richie questions, looking at the opened box in his hand. The sandals were nice. The base of the shoe was Polyurethane orthotic, a fancy way of saying more higher class than any other of Richie's flimsy flip flops. There were two straps across the top, each sealed perfectly along the edges with leather stitching. The back of the shoe had a lip to support the heel, as well as a strap. The leather of the shoe was padded inside with breathable fabric. _

_ “I just know you don’t have a good pair, and I think everyone should have at least ONE good pair of shoes” _

_ Richie smiles, upon realizing just how weird his best friend is. “You blew 30 bucks on me just because you thought you should?” _

_ Stanley smiles, “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’d been saving up for you” _

_ Richie doesn’t worry. He’s just thankful. _

And Richie did take care of those shoes, he took such good care of them that he still has them and they aren’t falling completely apart. 

Richie stares at his shoes, recalling when he realized they were a size up from his usual. He remembers when he asked Stan about that and Stanley simply responded with  _ “Because you’ll have more use for them as a man” _

_ Rest In Peace Stan the Man, _

Richie thinks to himself before pulling out of his parking spot.

  
  
  
  


Richie drives with his right hand, his left tucked in his jacket. He just got a car wash and was on the way back to the hotel. His phone starts to ring and he looks over at it

_ Steve Covall  _

Richie lets out an unsure sound before deciding he should answer it. He eases up to the stop light before answering the call and setting it to speaker 

“Hello, you’re speaking with the Tozier residence”

“Hey there, Richie” 

He sounds tired 

“Sup, Steve. What time is it there” 

There’s a small silence as Steve checks 

“It is currently 5:09”

Richie’s clock said 8:08 am. 

Richie had taken a nap that turned into a cold sleep back at the hotel. He woke up at 6:00 am in Derry, Maine. And he supposed Steve was just getting up in Los Angeles. 

“So, What brings you to my corner?” Richie starts as the light turns green

“To tell you that the venue was not pleased with you cancelling. And refunding those fucking people was a nightmare. A nightmare, Richie”

Richie had the audacity to let out a small laugh

“Thank you, Steve”

“I can’t believe you’re in fucking Derry”

Richie nods, siding with Steve on this one

He couldn’t believe it either. All that time he spent thinking about the day he would come back to Derry and find Eddie. He didn’t go at first simply because of the fear. Fear that something bad would happen. The Well house meant nothing but bad and Richie hadn’t wanted shit to do with it ever again. 

Richie only decided to come to Derry now because his dreams had started changing. 

They started getting less morbid and more..

_ More of the clown  _ Richie thought with a shiver 

“Yeah, that makes two of us” he responds with a dry laugh that awkwardly cracks, but neither of the men dwell on it 

“Truth be told, I was calling to check up on how you’re doing,” Steve says with a sigh.

Richie feels flattered for a moment. Steve wasn’t just his snappy coworker, but his friend. 

“I’ve done better to be honest, my friend!” Richie starts up, “glad I have my love calling from home right now though”

Steve can hear Richie mutter something on the other side of the phone in an amused tone

“Glad I called too haha, was scared you might’ve got yourself killed”

“Nah, not yet”

Steve laughs tiredly before hesitating for a moment, then continuing, 

“Well I should let you go. My wife’s finishing up with cooking breakfast so…”

Steve was not good at goodbyes. Richie had pieced that much together. Steve often hung up on people spastically so you didn’t typically hear him saying goodbye over the phone, but it was rather obvious in person. Steve Covall has mastered talking to people the way he needed to, but the one thing the poor foul mouthed man butchered was saying goodbye. He just didn’t know how to end a conversation.

“Haha I got you Steve. Oh and hey hey before you go, tell your Wife I said thanks for that bundt cake”

“Will do” 

“Aight, I’ll talk to you later Steve, thank you man”

But Steve had already hung up.

  
  
  


“Alright… how the fuck do I do this?”

Richie paces around his small bathroom for a moment, thinking over how he should approach his hand. 

He pulled the limp appendage from his jacket and looked at it. His hand was pale and was starting to crust in the center. Richie bit back the urge he had to vomit. 

He digs into the plastic bag and pulls out gauze and moleskin bandaging for his wound. He also bought disinfectant and neosporin. 

_ I should’ve got more, _

Richie thinks to himself,

_ Eddie would’ve known what to get. _

Richie stares at his hand

“I can’t do this” he says as backs away from the bag. “Oh god I can’t do this- okay here we go, oh fuck”

Richie is mumbling to himself as he unscrews the cap on the disinfectant. Hydrogen peroxide was never a fan of Richie Tozier, but it had been his childhood friend at some point. 

_ This is gonna hurt like a mother fucker _

He realizes he forgot gauze pads, so he uses the ‘ultra absorbent’ paper towels provided by the hotel. The clear liquid socks the folded square of paper towel and Richie sets the bottle of disinfectant down. 

He holds the soaked paper towel piece in his right hand and stares at his dangling left. 

_ We are really doing this  _

He takes a deep breath before lightly pressing the damp pad of paper towel to the center of his indenting hand. 

He hisses. It hurts but not as bad as he thought it was going to at all. He almost feels more uneasy at the realization. His hand had been punctured by a stalagmite of some sort, so why was it hurting as if he had just scuffed his hand up? 

Richie decided to just be thankful for being spared of pain this rare time in Derry. 


	14. Bike Ride

“HI-YO SILVER AWAYYYYY!” Bill screams with determination as he stands while peddling fiercely. His bike wobbles like a newborn deer, if the deer had epilepsy. The bicycle jutted side to side as he peddled, but he owned it. Bill took that silver scraped up hunk of junk that was much too big for him and made it his own. The sharpee written  _ Silver  _ on the side certainly added to its charm, Richie must admit. He recalls when Bill had first gotten the beat up bike for sale. Eddie had helped him fix Silver up, for Eddie was great with bikes. Richie remembers when Eddie had apparently told Bill that they should give the bicycle a new color. Bill felt an attachment to the silver on the bike though and refused the project. Eddie was persistent with the idea for a while, he joked that he was going to sneak into Bill’s garage to spray paint it. Richie thinks he might’ve actually toyed with that idea though, as Eddie still believes they should’ve colored Silver when they first got it. Richie liked Silver being silver and all but he couldn’t help but think Eddie had a point ( _ after all, Eddie knows more about bikes _ ).

Richie followed behind Bill, laughing with a large toothy smile. Richie’s two top front teeth stuck out a bit, like buck teeth. It wasn’t too obvious but Richie was insecure about it nonetheless. Not that that mattered right now though, because Richie didn’t care right now. Richie was busy with other things, like having a good fucking time. 

“Hey Eddie! Keep up the paaaaace man! Feel the vibrations man!” Richie says in his hippy voice as he raises his hand to do a gnarly gesture. His bike swerves for a moment in response to him using only one hand. Richie looks back forward to see Bills back rushing in the distance. For a moment, Richie is in Bill’s wavelength. 

Suddenly, a bike zooms past Richie. His head pops up and he looks at the perpetrator: Eddie. 

Eddie had zoomed past Richie and now he was beaming something beautiful, smiling wide and happily for Richie as he gracefully forces him to eat his dust. 

_ Oho no you don’t _

Richie smiles a mischievous one. He takes Eddie up on the challenge and Eddie knows it, it registers in his face visibly for a moment. Eddie bursts into laughter and focuses his gaze forward again, suddenly working his legs faster. 

Richie imagines as though he is revving a motorbike, he spits out to the side and then starts racing. 

The two of them racing each other as Bill stayed racing his own self ahead. 

It was Sunday, and tomorrow was the boys’ last Monday of school before it was out for the summer. They were on their way to Stanley Uris’s practice for his bar mitzvah. Richie doesn’t remember what the building is called. In fact, he knows basically nothing about any religion that isn’t his, he had never been taught. He does recall when Stanley told him “ _ it’s really important in my religion. It’s like a right of passage, really _ ” to which Richie responded with  _ “so.. is it like communion?”  _ Richie didn’t have to do communion but he knew about it. He remembers Stanley’s calculating face, as if he really thought about that question. “ _ I suppose so if you want it really basic”  _

And it was funny when Stanley continued with  _ “But it’s nothing like communion, I don’t think- it’s so much more complicated”  _

Anyway- 

The three boys had told Stanley that they would wait for him to get done with his reading  _ or whatever it was.  _ They all wanted to go to Bill’s and hang out in the garage, but for some reason, Mr. Uris was being difficult and had refused to give his son the ride to Bill’s from the synagogue. 

So alas, the three boys decided they would just meet Stanley there and then go to Bill’s all together. What would probably happen when they get there is that Richie would give Stanley his bike and then Richie would ride on the back of Silver. The reason for that being is that none of them want to walk the whole way and there is no way Stanley would ever get on the back of Silver. 

  
  


“I am going to literally destroy you!” Richie says as he bikes up faster to Eddie. Eddie begins to lose energy and as a result, Richie takes the lead. 

“OH! Consider yourself destroyeD wOT WOT!” Richie chants as he bikes down the hill, he looks over his shoulder at Eddie

“Oh come on Rich! I just slowed down so you wouldn’t feel bad about yourself!” 

Richie gasps an exaggerated gasp,

“Don’t be mad that you just suck!” Richie yells, still looking behind him at Eddie. Before he can stop it, his bike swerves and his bike dips, parading against the storm drain in seconds. The bike clatters and tumbles, and Richie gets only partially thrown forward. He tumbles over the handlebars of his bike and his head hits the street light that is just barely to the right of the storm drain. Richie falls down to the ground, bashing his knee against the cement block that surrounds the base of the light. 

“OH SHIT!” Eddie exclaims- immediately rushing off his bicycle, letting it knock against the ground harshly as he abandons it in the street. 

Bill must hear the distressed “Fuck!” Richie yells out, because he is rushing back on his Silver right now. 

“H-h-holy smokes! What t-the shit happened?”

Richie’s hands are scuffed from breaking his fall and his head hurts from banging it. Richie feels as though the bump is already forming. But worst of all was his knee. His right knee had taken right to the shitty cement work of the shitty streetlight in shitty Derry. His weight had crushed his knee against the base of the streetlight, then, when he continued falling, his knee skidded against the side of the cement block, dragging skin off the entire way down to the grass.

So now Richie is sitting up in the grass, to the left of the streetlight. His knee is all scraped up and bloody, dirt scuffed all over. 

Richie sucks in a sharp exhale through his teeth. He groans out in pain.

“Ohhh that doesn’t feel good”

“Richie fucking crashed!”

Eddie exclaims, kneeling down beside Richie, analyzing his wound. 

“Yeah! I can see that!” Bill says, no stuttering.

“Yeah scratch that, Ed’s, I just ate shit!”

Eddie gives Richie a look, “Don’t call me that”

“So will I live, Dr. K?” Richie says suddenly, his voice dramatically hoarse

Eddie rolls his eyes

“So- so- what are we gonna do?” Bill strikes up

“What do you mean?” Richie asks, getting up and patting himself off. Blood begins to run down the front and center of his cave, highlighting his tibia. 

“He means: you have a bloody knee and it could get infected!” Eddie says, getting up and traveling over to Bill’s side, looking at Richie. 

Richie laughs, “oh come on! It’s not too bad” 

_ It hurts like a bitch  _ Richie thinks to himself.

Eddie sighs and then turns to Bill,

“We should get that bandaged up” 

“But wh-what about St-Stanley?” Bill asks 

Eddie contemplates this.

Richie just stands there, wondering if they have forgotten he’s here, despite talking about him. He blinks and looks around before slowly recovering his bike.

“How about you go meet up with Stanley and I’ll get Richie patched up” Eddie recommends

Bill nods and smiles “then we can muh-meet up at my house” 

Eddie smiles back, his face reaching a sunny flush, “Yeah!”

  
  


And so it’s settled. Bill bikes off to go meet up with Stanley. At first, Bill brought up how Stan won’t have his bike (because everyone knew there was no way Stanley was going to agree to ride on Silver). And Richie almost gives up his bike for Bill to take to Stanley (because they were only a few blocks away) till he realizes that then he would have to ride on the back of Eddie's bike, and that wasn’t going to happen.  _ “Looks like he’ll just have to suck it up!”  _ Richie had said as he mounted his bike. Eddie snickered lightly at that and Bill had nodded  _ “y-y-you’re right, R-Richie” _

  
  


Richie and Eddie rode together slowly. It hurt when Richie peddled, his knee throbbed everytime it bent. 

“We need to get you back to my place so I can clean that out” Eddie begins to say, “it’s really creepin’ me out” 

Richie scoffs almost and looks over at Eddie, who is riding by his side

“Creeps you out? Eddie you gotta loosen up man” 

“It’s just so dirty. It looks gross”

It did look gross. 

Richie took a moment to feel the air on his face. You could tell summer was here. The fresh scent of  _ warm  _ that was carried anywhere the soft breeze went stayed plastered to Richie’s face as he rode his bike. 

Eddie created small talk with Richie on the way there, and Richie, who never thought of himself as a small talk kind of guy, was oddly enamored with it. He even added to the various conversations.

“What’s your favorite arcade game?”

Eddie thought about his response 

“Frogger.” 

“I could’ve guessed that” 

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. Okay- what's your favorite arcade game?”

“Uh is that even a question? Just the best one to ever fucking exist, yessiree, I am indeed talking about Street Fighter”

Eddie laughs. Richie was right: was that even a question? He could’ve guessed that answer, or maybe he knew it. He couldn’t tell. 

At last, they arrived at Eddie’s house. The boys drop their bikes on the curb and Richie walks up to the sidewalk. Eddie follows 

“Hey”

Richie pretends like he can’t see Eddie because of  _ how short he is _

Eddie pinches his lips together in annoyance and then snaps his fingers right in front of Richie’s face repeatedly.

_ Obnoxiously  _

“Hey! I said hey” 

“Oh hi there Eddie! Didn’t see you there”

“Very funny, Rich”

“Alright what’s up”

“My mom is home and I don’t want her seeing you like this”

“You’re right, this is not how you romance a woman”

“Okay beep beep Richie”

Richie laughs lightly and Eddie shakes his head, sighing. Eddie looks over at his house and then back at Richie, who is actually silent.

Eddie always thought Richie was the most interesting person he knew. He couldn’t help but think about that as he looked at Richie for that second.

“You stay out here, I’ll be back”

Eddie says, backing up before turning away to walk up to his door. Eddie hesitates before placing his hand on the knob and gently (quietly) turning it to go inside. 

Richie noticed it all. But he never thought anything more of it. It wasn’t his problem. 

Richie shuffles in place awkwardly. He pats at his sides and exhales random significant puffs of air. Suddenly Richie felt as if he was being  _ watched.  _ Yes, he felt as though two eyes were burning holes into his back. Richie swallowed thickly before his hand staggers up quickly to push his glasses up, then back down in a flash. Suddenly Richie can’t take it, he turns around. Nothing but an empty road.

The road is bright. So, not scary. The sidewalk stretches along beside the road. The grass divides the cement. It’s a typical poor suburban neighborhood. A fire hydrant was oddly placed near the curb of Eddie’s neighbor’s house. And directly across from the kaspbrak House was a sewer drain. 

Richie looked at the road long enough to assure himself that no one was staring at him. He turns back around just in time to see young Eddie Kaspbrak with a handful of medical supplies cradled in his arms. It looks like he’s about to drop a gauze pad. Eddie closes the door behind him and skips up to Richie. 

“I got the stuff”

“Drugs? Eddie you bad boy”

“No! Gross Richie don’t call me that! Ugh”

Eddie nearly gags. He then hunches over to drop the supplies on the ground. 

“Here, let’s just sit here and I’ll patch you up” 

Eddie says as he sits down on the sidewalk 

Richie nods and drops down, sitting as well. 

He sits with a leg outstretched and Eddie moves himself to be beside his wounded knee. 

Richie sits there, his hands situated behind his back on the cement to keep him up. He stares at Eddie beginning to go to work. His eyes are calculating on what to do. He seems so sure when he searches for an item in the pile he brought out. Richie stares at Eddie’s handiwork.

He is currently washing off Richie’s knee with disinfectant wipes. 

“Well… you’re not going to die” Eddie says randomly 

“What?”

“Earlier you said ‘will I live?’ And I’m saying now that you will” Eddie says as if it’s obvious. 

“Right,” Richie says, “thank you Dr. K” 

  
  


Eddie wraps up Richie’s knee, and Richie does not like the feeling of his movement being restricted at all. The moleskin holds his knee firmly and securely. 

“We are all done!” Eddie says, getting up and looking at his door.

“Oh thank god. For a second there I thought it was never gonna end”

“Yeah well you’re welcome, Richie” 

“I said thank you already!”

They pick up their discarded bikes and, together, the two boys bike to Bill’s house. 


	15. Beverly

December 14th, 2:37pm

Beverly sits at her dining table. She messes with the phone in her hands. Ben sits beside her, caressing her shoulder blade. 

“You got this” Ben finally says in a soft voice 

Beverly nods, her fingers anxiously tapping her phone case. 

_ I want a cigarette  _ she thinks 

But it’s immediately followed by thoughts of quitting. 

“I got this” she says with a sigh as she turns her phone over to unlock it.

  
  
  


_ “Beverly. What’s going on?” Ben asks as he comes out onto the Balcony. Beverly sits on their stainless steel porch set, pondering.  _

_ It was December 13th, 2:26pm, and Beverly had just finished a call with Richie Tozier. Richie had found Eddie alive. Actually alive. _

_ Beverly almost couldn’t believe it, except she did. The way Richie sounded as he said “Eddie” had broken Beverly’s heart.  _

_ So now she sits, staring out at the Nebraskan city.  _

_ “Honey,” she starts, “Richie went to Derry” _

_ Ben nods his head slowly, before sitting down beside her. This much she had already told him earlier.  _

_ “He uhm… he went back to the Well house. Because you know, he believed that there was a possibility that… Eddie might not be dead” she swallows with a dry throat. _

_ Ben nods again, staring at Beverly with concerned eyes _

_ “And what happened..?” He asks, urging her forward  _

_ “He- he found Eddie. Alive. Down there” _

_ She finally shoves out. _

_ Ben blinks, then he leans back and runs a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily.  _

_ “Wait wait wait, Bev, Richie went down the well… and found Eddie alive?” He lets out a nervous laugh, “I mean, that’s crazy. We saw what happened. No one would survive that” _

_ Beverly takes a deep breath, “I know it’s crazy but I believe him. And I think we should go back to Derry” _

_ Ben nearly chokes, “Wait, Bev this is insane. What proof does he have?”  _

_ She swallowed thickly and started to feel gross.  _

_ “A picture” she says in response, _

_ “It’s Richie’s hand”  _

_ Is all she continues to say as she pulls up the photo for Ben to see. _

_ Ben looks at it and immediately looks away  _

_ “Oh my god? What the hell happened??” _

_ “I don’t know exactly, but he impaled his hand while in the sewers and then it healed like that” _

_ “I don’t know if you can call that healed”  _

_ She cringes as she looks back at the picture on her phone. ‘God, it’s horrible’ she thinks. _

_ When Richie had initially sent it to her, she screamed or in terror at how it looked. It didn’t look right. _

_ Beverly locks her phone up as to not stare at the picture any longer. Ben watches her carefully, as if trying to understand what she is thinking.  _

_ “... I’m with you Bev” Ben finally states, _

_ “Let’s go. Let’s go to Derry” he says calmly.  _

_ Beverly looks up at him and he offers her a reassuring smile  _

_ “Besides, I don’t want Richie getting himself killed” Ben says with a small laugh.  _

_ “And I don’t know about you but if it’s at all possible, I wanna see Eddie again too” he finishes. Beverly smiles over at him. Her hand glides across the table to interlock her fingers with his.  _

_ “Thank you... I love you, Ben”  _

_ He smiles, feeling like a lovestruck kid all over again  _

_ “I love you too, Bev”  _

  
  
  


Ben is making a drink at the bar. Over the years he had acquired a small nac for mixology. Not that Ben ever said anything about it. Beverly had only found out about this when she came to Nebraska with him and he just started whipping out great drinks.

Beverly stares at her phone screen, scrolling through the list of contacts displayed. She finds herself immediately scrolling to her first contact. 

_ Bill.  _

She may have not been in love with Bill anymore. But she still had a soft spot for the man, who she always saw as a sweet stuttering boy. A smile dares grace her face at thinking about sweet childhood memories for a second. 

Ben walks over and places a drink in a nice Waterford glass on the glass table in front of Beverly. She smiles at Ben and laughs lightly 

“Oh? I thought you were making yourself something”

“Nah, thought this could get the edge off. You’re saddled with a big job here” he says with a smile.

Bev looks at the drink

“Okay, what is it, Mr. Mixer” 

That was Ben’s nickname among their friends in Nebraska. Everyone who came over to the Hanscom and Marsh residence knew they were probably set for a sweet drink, and Ben specialized in mixed drinks. 

“Bacardi Gold with a Cola and some lime juice,”

He points at a lime that pinches the rim of the glass, “I’d recommended using that”

She laughs and nods

“When do I not use a lemon or lime when provided?” Beverly says this with Richie in mind. He was one of those people who always took the lemon out of his water or discarded limes on plates. Beverly, however, was the polar opposite. She loves the flavor a wedge of lime or lemon can give a dish or drink. 

Ben holds his hands up in surrender, “you’re right, I didn’t need to say anything,” he says with a welcoming aura. Ben had this way that made you feel as though everything was alright. Because Ben knew so much, he just came off as so much more easy to talk to, as you could talk to him about almost anything. 

“Thank you” she says right before she takes her first sip- Beverly knows how to handle her alcohol, so this is nothing to her, but good nonetheless. She hums in satisfaction at the drink as Ben leans down to kiss the side of her head 

“I’ll be in the office,” he says before backing off 

“You come get me if you need anything! I mean anything”

“Like another drink?”

“Anything”

She looks around and then at her already half finished drink. 

She downs alcohol as well.

Ben snorts “want another one before I leave?”

“Please” 

“Alright” Ben says as he breaks it’s warm laughter and returns to the bar. 

  
  


Another Bacardi rum and Cola is set down for Beverly and she leans up and kisses Ben's cheek as a thank you. He takes the empty glass Beverly had finished earlier to the sink and leaves her alone for the calls she has to make. Beverly loved help from friends but when it all came down to it, she liked working alone best. Ben knew this and respected it. 

Beverly looked at her phone and then at her drink. She takes a sip of the mixer and then forces herself to tap Bill’s contact.

Upon dialing she mutters a “awh fuck it” and she takes the glass of Bacardi and Cola and downs it. She simply squeezed the lemon in her mouth after it. She shakes her head from the impact of downing that drink, which very clearly had more Bacardi in it than Cola now. Ben knew she could handle it so he put more alcohol in it, what he didn’t expect was for her to down it the way she just did. But Ben didn’t know about that so Beverly just shrugged it off. 

The phone was finally answered 

“Hey Bev! How are you? How’s Ben?”

Bill says immediately upon answering. Beverly smiles 

“Hey there Bill. I’m doing just fine, Ben is in the office doing whatever the hell. Probably some stuff far out of my reach. You?” 

Beverly didn’t understand that architectural stuff, but she did have an interest for it, as she could very much tell: Ben was good at what he does. 

Bill laughs, “oh I’m doing alright. Audra is doing good so I’m doing good” 

Bill certainly was a family Man. 

He was in England with his Wife, still pursuing his writing career as she pursued her dreams of being an actress. She is surprised Bill hasn’t had a child.

Suddenly she can hear Audra in the background 

“Bill who are you talking to on the phone?” 

“Beverly. Beverly Marsh”

“Tell her I said hello. I’m going to bed”

_ Going to bed _ ? 

_ Oh shit he lives in England _

“I’m terribly sorry, what time is it over there?” Beverly suddenly apologizes 

“Oh don’t worry, it’s 9:24pm. I don’t sleep till like, 11”

Beverly laughs at that response, “maybe you should change that?”

“Maybe” 

Once Bill takes a moment to say goodnight to his wife, he goes to his study and resumes the call with Beverly. 

“Sorry that I took a while”

“No, no it’s okay” Beverly says, the phone now on speaker and placed on the bar, as she is pouring herself another drink. 

It most likely won’t be as good as Ben’s drinks but whatever. 

“So what's got you calling me?”

Beverly sometimes thought Bill didn’t know how to word things. Sometimes he would say shit that sounded like one thing, when he really means the other. 

‘What’s got you calling me’ sounds like kind of a dick thing to say, but Beverly paid no mind to it, as she knew Bill was only just asking.

“I have some.. something we need to talk about” 

She says as she finishes up her new drink. She was feeling the Bacardi, except this time she went with a light Bacardi mixed with a fruit juice. 

She picks up her phone in one hand, the other holding her drink, and she walks back to the glass table.

“What’s up, Bev?”

She leans against the table, placing the phone down again and biting her thumb nail.

“I uh-... I got a call from Richie the other day” 

She begins, her voice unsure.

“Yeah? What’s up with him?” Bill asks, wondering where this is going. As he knew that Richie was a bit off his rocker as of lately.

“He’s in Derry”

“Jesus Christ” Bill says almost immediately,

“What’s he think he’s gonna find?” He continues in a confused and maybe peeved voice.

Beverly stays silent for a moment, debating in her head how she should say what she has to.

“He went to the Well house and he did what he said he would. He went down there and do you know what he found, Bill?”

Bill pauses for a fraction of a second, then answers unsure “.... what.. did he find?” 

“Eddie. He found Eddie. Alive, Bill. Eddie is alive and has been surviving down there” her voice slowly raises as it hits her again that the friend they left behind in the devil's den is actually still alive. 

Bill croaks our a small “what” before tripping over his words about five times, he then stops to take a deep breath and tries that again,

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said. He told me, Bill. Richie wouldn’t lie about something like that”

“No I know he wouldn’t”

But Bill couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Richie would.  _ Beep beep  _ was a thing after all. 

“And he sent me a uhm.. picture”

“Of Eddie?!” Now that sparks Bill’s attention. Beverly thinks he just might be completely sold now that there is a hint of proof. 

“But of eddie but of… something disgusting” 


	16. Richie’s House

It had been only a day since Richie told Eddie about the fight between him and Bill. Eddie of course decided to stay neutral, but he really did feel that he sided with Richie. He was scared, he didn’t want to go see that child killing clown either. He didn’t want to go _ missing _.

Eddie today was feeling bored and rather tense, so he called up the Tozier household. And when Mr. Tozier answered, he asked if he could speak with Richie.

Soon enough Richie was at the wall phone in his kitchen again.

“Hey there Eddie Spaghetti, what’s up?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and Richie can almost hear it.

“Don’t call me that. I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out”

Eddie says, his cast cradled arm close to his diaphragm.

“A DATE!” Richie squawks in amusement. Mrs. Tozier immediately squeals _ ”what?!” _ To which Richie laughs and says _ “no no no, I’m just kidding!” _

Meanwhile, Eddie sits there in silence, his lips tightly pinched together as he stares at the wall. His face was getting kind of red, but that was most likely from him holding his breath.

Suddenly he burst out, right as Richie returns to the phone, “Do you want to hang out or not?”

“Yowza! Yeah I do Eddie, sheesh”

“Okay… I just don’t know- uhm- would you like to maybe just ride around the block? Or maybe we could see if Ben wants to hang out or something so-“

Suddenly Richie chimes in, “How about you come over to my place?”

Mrs. Tozier is really confused now and she questions her son

_ “Richie! Who is on the phone?” _

_ “Eddie” _

_ “Oh, not a girl?” _

Eddie feels odd about listening in to this conversation

Richie pauses for a moment

_ “No, not a girl” _

Richie’s mom says something like _ “okay sweet pea, what time is he coming over?” _

Richie exhales softly but Eddie can hear it. Eddie wonders if Richie is embarrassed.

“Yo, Ed’s, what time do you want to come over”

Richie says that like Eddie agreed to the idea. But Eddie did kind of agree with that idea, he just hadn’t verbalized it.

“I dunno, what works best with you?”

“How about now?” Richie chimes

Eddie thinks about this. And then he smiles,

“Yeah that would be great!”

“Cool see you then, Ed’s”

“Don’t-“

Richie hangs up on Eddie.

Eddie sighs and places the phone back on the wall.

“Eddie!”

He stumbles out of his kitchen and into the living room. His mother sits in a recliner, a TV tray next to the chair full of wrappers and a microwaveable dinner.

“Yes mommy?”

“Who did you call again?”

“Bill”

“So you’re going now…?”

Eddie shuffles awkwardly in his place. He is standing just beneath the frame of the entree, reluctant on stepping any further into the living room (or perhaps, any closer to his mother).

Eddie nods, “yes”

“Okay well, don’t forget your-“

Eddie pats his fanny pack “I got it”

“Okay. When will you be back?”

“Maybe two or three hours…?”

Eddie thinks about it… but after he says that, the number of hours goes up in his mind.

_ Or maybe five? _Eddie thinks to himself

“Oh,” she sighs, debating if she should let her son go or not, “Okay. Be back before six”

Eddie nods, looking at his watch. It was currently 2:50pm

“Okay Mommy” Eddie backs out of the room, going to twist the front door knob to leave,

“Have fun, Eddie, be safe!” His mother calls before he shuts the door. He runs up to his garage and grabs his bike, hastily jogging it to the road before hopping on and peddling to Richie’s house.

On the way there, Eddie takes in the breeze. _ The wind is cooler today _he notes. He thinks about what he and Richie are going to do when he gets there. Would they play a game? Just talk? Or maybe they would just do their own thing, enjoying each other’s presence. Eddie hums to himself, then he thinks about the clown and nearly loses control of his bike. He gets intrusive thoughts from time to time

He can’t help but think about how _ It’s still out there. _

Eddie then realized what he was going to do when he got to Richie’s house. He was going to tell him what he had been keeping inside for a while

_ What happened when I broke my arm _

Eddie shivers and bikes a little faster.

The bike clatters to the sidewalk and Eddie marches up a cracked driveway with one car parked in it. Richie’s bike lays discarded in the grass near the mailbox.

Eddie hesitates before knocking, suddenly aware of what he’s wearing.

_ Richie always calls me cute when I wear these _

He thinks as he looks at his red shorts

Alas he knocks and he hears a young boy inside scream _ “I GOT IT!” _

Eddie could her his feet speedily and heavily hitting every step till he was downstairs. The door swings open

“Hey there cutie”

“Save it, Trashmouth”

“Okay okay sorry, come on in”

Richie steps to the side to allow Eddie in. Eddie looks at Richie for a second before walking inside and waving to Mrs. and Mr. Tozier.

Richie’s parents were pretty cool. Though Eddie was very aware that Mrs. Tozier wanted a girl, for she always talked of having a baby girl. Boys were just too confusing, especially since her boy was Richie.

Richie just starts walking and Eddie follows.

Richie kicks open a door dramatically and Eddie laughs but also wonders why he did that.

Richie’s room was messy, but the center of the floor was clear so that was a plus. His walls were decorated in posters he tore out of magazines. His bed was a cluster fuck to say they least, for nothing matched on it, and it was never made (unless Mrs. Tozier decided to pick up his room).

“This place smells like shit” Eddie remarks

“Smells like your mom”

“Why would it smell like-“

“Because she’s always over”

“That’s so weird. Stop” Eddie hisses

Richie laughs and sits down on his bed, picking up a discarded magazine that laid at the foot of the mattress. He starts skimming the pages.

“So, what did you wanna do? My mom got me some new cards so we could play trash or something” Richie says, his eyes on the page.

“Well, that sounds really cool”

“Sweet!” Richie chimes, putting down his magazine. He shuffles off his mattress, disheveling sheets in the process. Richie gets on his knees and pulls a box out from beneath his bed. It’s a shoe box Eddie had seen before, Richie keeps stuff that is important to him in there. _ Like his yo-yo. _

_ He can’t yo-yo for shit _Eddie thinks delightedly.

Richie opens the box and pulls out his card set.

Eddie walks further into the room and both the boys sit on the floor beside each other at the exact same time.

Eddie looks over at the cards Richie displays in his lap. It’s a great card set, and probably the only complete one Richie has as of right now.

It’s a poker set, adorned with deep blue typical patterns on the back.

It’s a nice, sturdy, clean set of cards.

Richie presents them as if they are gold. Eddie smiles at this.

“Aren’t they nice?” Richie asks out of excitement, knowing the answer

“Yeah, that’s a really good looking set”

Richie moves so that he’s sitting in front of Eddie rather than beside him. Richie begins to shuffle the cards, swiftly followed by a bridge of the deck. Eddie has no idea how Richie does that.

_ Show off _ he thinks to himself, still entranced by Richie shuffling the cards once again.

“So! Let’s play trash!”

He says as he deals out cards, each boy getting ten.

Eddie bites his tongue.

_ I wanted to tell him about what happened.. _

But Richie looked so happy to be using his new card set. So Eddie decided he would just tell him later as he began to set up his cards on the carpet.

  


The boys played two out of three, and Richie came out victorious. Eddie groans as Richie praises himself for his _ “glorious win” _.

“I am the champion!” Richie chants

Eddie sits there and waits out Richie’s parade.

“Yep you won at a game of luck”

Eddie finally responds

“It’s not luck”

“It’s basically luck”

“No”

“Yes!”

Richie snickers and adjusts his glasses.

“Well,” he says, looking up at Eddie with a soft expression “wanna play another game?”

Eddie takes a moment to think about Richie’s face right now. _ That looks like a trustworthy face _ he thinks to himself, _ an understanding face. _

Eddie notices his heart begin to feel heavy in his chest.

“Richie, I actually wanted to talk about something”

Richie blinks, caught off guard by how bad that sounds.

“What’s up, Ed’s?”

Eddie doesn’t have it in him to correct Richie on the name right now.

“Remember when,” Eddie pauses, clenching his jaw for a second before continuing, “remember when we went to the Well house?”

Richie freezes up, the scene flooding his head.

“Yep- can’t really forget it”

“I wanna talk about what happened”

Richie looks confused for a moment,

“What do you mean? I was there”

“You weren’t when I broke my arm”

The boys go silent for a moment as that sounded kind of bad.

“Well what happened…?” Richie asks, genuinely curious as to what happened when he…

When he walked in on _ that _scene.

When he saw It hunched over Eddie as he cried out and wheezed. That monstrous fucking clown nearly killed Eddie.

Eddie goes on to tell Richie about what he heard in the hallway and how he saw the leper again.

“I saw the leper again, he looked just as awful!”

“Once again: probably syphilis”

“Shut up!”

And then he talks about when he fell.

Eddie holds himself as he recalls the story, and Richie had decided he would keep his mouth shut all the while.

At this point the boys had changed their seats. Richie sat on his bed and Eddie was standing, pacing around.

“I was laying there, and I think I had broken a table or something from the fall. Anyway, but, uhm, I leaned up and my uh- my arm felt funny,” he says as his expression twists to something of discomfort,

“So I looked and there it was, all bent up- and then the next thing I knew, there was this tapping noise in front of me. And …”

Eddie pauses. Richie leans forward, fully invested in Eddie’s story at his point

“What happened next Eddie…?”

Eddie swallows and replays the event in his mind

“I saw fingers. Gloves fingers. The fridge door was open and It was reaching out”

“... It…?”

Eddie nods his head and Richie looks down. Richie begins to rub at his forearm.

“The door opened and he was all twisted up in there, and then he like, un- twisted up?”

Eddie had the guts to laugh suddenly

“And then he says ‘time to float!’ And he- he like- does this”

Eddie awkwardly swings his arms in an attempt to mock the way pennywise did when he staggered toward Eddie that day in the Well house

Richie pops up at that and suddenly belts out with laughter

“You mean he did a little dance?” Richie asks in a fit of laughter

Eddie can’t help but join in the hysteria

“Yeah! He did!”

Richie does a small imitation on the bed with minimal effort and Eddie loses it.

They both begin to catch their breath, calming down after their sudden burst of hilarity.

“But yeah, it was fucking terrifying, Rich, It’s..”

He cringes,

“It’s face began to change”

Richie looks at Eddie with an uneasy expression

“What do you mean?”

Eddie recalls when the clown had begun to open up its mouth- getting ready to take a bite into Eddie. He trembles for a moment

“It just did. It was awful. It was awful, Richie”

_ It’s skin peeled back _ Eddie remembers, _ Like its mouth was never ending. _

Richie nods “well, I hope It changed into a cute little puppy, like a Pomeranian”

Eddie groans, “It didn’t”

Richie laughs nervously, realizing he’s getting no chucks from Eddie right now

“Sorry,” he finally responds, “that sounds fucking terrifying”

Eddie looks up at Richie, an odd, unreadable expression on his face. He looks conflicted, as if debating whether he should say something or not. Yet he also looks like he might not say anything at all, as Eddie seems too distressed.

“Richie?”

“What’s up, Eddie?”

“Let’s stick together”

Richie blinks a few times. His hand moving so he can rub at his wrist. Eddie notices the silence and curses at himself mentally for saying something so cheesy. Eddie opens his mouth to either try and explain or say ‘never mind’, but he is cut off by Richie, who doesn’t need an explanation.

“Of course Ed’s. You and me, we are a team”

Eddie looks at Richie, who is rubbing his skin raw on his wrist

“In fact,” Richie continues, “I’d dare to say we are the most unstoppable of the whole gang”

Eddie takes this to heart. He knows what Richie means, but he also wonders exactly what Richie means.

Richie hasn’t looked at Eddie once, and Eddie realizes this.

_ He’s embarrassed _ , Eddie thinks, _ I would be too. _

But why were the two boys embarrassed? All Eddie said was that they should stick together, to which Richie agreed and told him the same in threefold. Eddie certainly hadn’t expected such a genuine and flattering response from him, but it was only normal because they were close friends. Yet, Eddie stood there for a moment, thinking over Richie’s every word. It made an impact.

Eddie realizes now that he hasn’t responded, and that makes him realize the cracked expression beginning to unfold on Richie’s face.

“You’re right” Eddie finally says before jumping on the bed to sit beside Richie, “we are unstoppable aren’t we?”

Richie chews at his lower lip before looking over in Eddie’s direction at last.

Eddie isn’t looking at him, but Richie is set at ease seeing that expression on his face.

He looks happy.

And Eddie is happy.

He’s happy to know that Richie thinks the exact same way he does.

Richie’s gaze lingers in Eddie’s direction before getting pulled away as he says a small “Yeah”.


	17. Illusion

Richie runs a frazzled hand through his hair. He removes his glasses for a moment to pinch the top of the bridge of his nose. His brows furrow hard, creating stress lines on his forehead.

“Ohhhh what am I gonna do” he mumbles to himself dejectedly. 

Richie had just gotten off a call with Bill Denbrough. Bill had called to talk to Richie about the news he had heard through Beverly. Richie answered all his questions, though most of those questions were answered with ‘I don’t know’.

Richie had no idea what was going on, he was still only vaguely aware that his hand was fucking wrecked. 

_ There is no way they will believe me,  _ Richie thinks, the sobering thought scaring him slightly.

What Richie had failed to tell Bill earlier was that he was currently in his rental, parked in front of the Well house, about to go inside. He decided he would come back, because he just simply needed to see Eddie again. 

_ Hell I need to see the proof again myself, how is anyone else gonna believe me? _

He throws his head back and lets out a hefty groan. Finally he wills himself to open the center console. Richie pulls out a small faux velvet satchel, about the size of his hand. 

“He’s gonna love this” he hears himself say loud. 

Richie exits the car, locking it behind him. His eyes sweep Neibolt street, making sure no one watches as a grown man walks into a deserted lot and climbs down a well. 

And no one is watching, so Richie does exactly that. He slips the small bag into his coat pocket before walking on to the debris, making his way to the Well. 

_ This looks like the shit in The Ring,  _ Richie thinks to himself as he approaches that ominous stone abyss. 

Richie looks around once more before swinging his leg over the lip of the Well and climbing down. 

  
  
  


The descent into the sewers is a long one, in fact, it seems even longer than last time. 

It seems so much longer, Richie wonders where he went wrong. He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point and all of the walls look the same, only adding to his confusion. 

“Shit” Richie mutters. 

His hands tremble slightly as he stiffly pats at his sides. 

_ Alrighty where the fuck are we? _

Richie stumbles down a passage, gray water runs in a small stream at his feet.

He begins to chew on his lip, weary eyes scanning the tunnel before him. 

_ I should turn back…. _

He can feel his heart beginning to quicken pace. Richie decides he should at least try and retrace his steps back to the entrance. So he turns, coming face to face with a talk disgusting being. The monster’s face is falling apart, eroding divots into his cheeks. Richie feels as though if this thing touches him he might just become as dreadful as it.

_ The Leper..  _ his mind muses, now knowing what Eddie all those years ago must of saw. 

His eyes blow wide and he immediately stumbles back before pivoting on his foot and jumping into a run. 

_ HOLY FUCKING SHIT-  _

Richie screams in thought, as he runs down the passage. His feet splash into the water and the floor, and he can hear the leper gaining on him from behind. It staggers and limos after Richie, it’s long arms reaching out. 

Richie can hear his heart pounding in his ears as he runs, not daring to look back. His hair stands on end all the while adrenaline pumps into his sympathetic system, causing his running to speed up.

Richie approaches a two-way fork in the road. His breathing hitches, not knowing which way. 

** _Right. _ **

Richie stays right and runs down the corridor. 

The leper’s heavy congested breathing fades behind Richie, as there is no way the leper is fitting through this passage. It’s smaller than the past hall, so Richie has to duck down slightly to get through. Luckily, this is short lived, as he is soon standing again on old squeaky flooring. 

_ What the fuck?  _ Richie wonders to himself, for he was in a dingy wooden hallway now. He looks behind him, the original entree is gone, now it’s just a closed door.

_ This is all just an illusion isn’t it..?  _ Richie dreads to himself, curiously trying the door knob and seeing it’s locked before turning back around to take in the setting. But yet again the scene had hanged. It was still an old wooden hallway with a small clearing at the end, but now there was a person.

Richie freezes up, staring in silence at the unknown person’s back. 

The room is quiet, there are some black and white pictures on the hallway walls of a circus. At the end of the hall, there is that small little room. The room is messy and unkempt, bags of unknown things piled in the corner, broken glass and mirrors. A shelf is pressed against the wall opposing of Richie, jars of powders, brushes, combs and hair product. 

There was a vanity. An old beat up vanity. The man sat on a stool perched before that vanity. On the table are various face paint items and a lit kerosene lamp. 

The unknown man is hunched over, groaning to himself. His deep red suspenders lay hanging from his belt, and his cotton shirt was stained with multiple sources. 

Richie takes in a quiet, trembling, deep breath. 

Suddenly the other man leans up and Richie presses against the door behind him, jaw set and eyes wide. 

“Can you smell it, Richie?”

The man says, his voice vaguely familiar. 

** _Popcorn! _ ** _ Yes I do smell it _

Richie’s mind answers to the man, but he does not verbalize it. 

“What brings you back? Hm?” 

The man with his back to Richie questions.

Before Richie can even think an answer, the man stands up so quickly that the stool falls behind him.

“ ** _Come here_ ** ”

The man croaks as he begins to hug himself. Richie begins to pull at the knob on the door- still locked. 

“ ** _Come here!_ ** ” He suddenly yells, his hands slamming down to the table. 

Richie swallows down spit collected in his throat and begins to jerk at the knob, the door rattling on its hinges.

The man turns around as if he’s dancing, pulling his suspenders up his shoulders while whistling a tune by The Chordettes. 

Richie’s stomach drops at the sight. It certainly was the clown, just more human. His face was makeupless and more proportionate. Richie clenches his teeth. 

“ ** _Oh Richie, come over here_ ** ” the jolly man says, gesturing him over excitedly as if they were friends. 

The walls almost seem to be closing in- and that’s when Richie realizes they are. 

“ ** _Come here my friend_ ** ”

Richie feels the sudden urge to vomit as he has no choice but to walk toward the clown. He isn’t sure if he decided to start moving his feet or if it just happened.

He walks up, his eyes wide 

_ No. I would’ve stopped already. I’m not the one moving my feet. _

Richie takes in a sharp breath and the walls close behind him, leaving him and It in a small enclosed space together. 

Richie stands there, stiff, unmoving. It’s then he realizes he’s lost all control of his body, he can’t move. 

The clown turns away from Richie, looking back down at the table of the vanity. He picks up a rag and dips it in white face paint, painting his face as he looks in a dusty and cracked mirror that Richie can’t see anything in. 

“ ** _How do I look?_ ** ” He says, turning around, his face completely painted white. It’s a sloppy job, as the paint itself is clumping up on his skin, some falling off his face and onto his beige shirt. 

“ ** _Oho! Almost forgot.._ ** _ ”  _ he turns back around and pulls something out of the drawer. A switchblade.

_ That’s my dad’s knife. _

The knife is switched out. The clown’s bare paint stained hand holds the wooden base of the blade, tilting the sharp point toward his face. Richie’s stomach clenches in response. Then finally the blade tip digs into the clown’s skin just above the eyebrow, traveling down. 

Richie suddenly yelps out in pain, his shoulder throbbing with pain. His body allowed movement again as he stumbles back and clenches his shoulder. He could feel Bowers carving into him once again.

The clown imitates a sob from Richie as he pulls the knife down over his eyelid and onto his cheek. The skin splits beneath the knife with ease, blood sliding down his cheeks just before the knife follows, twisting in the skin to make a turn in the flesh. The knife travels to the corner of the clown’s mouth, splitting it wider. 

Richie cries out in agony. He never wanted to feel this ever again. So without thinking, he lunges at the clown to make it stop.

It turns around and grips Richie’s wrist, shoving the knife straight through the top of his left hand. Richie makes a miserable sound, his hand twitching as he looks at the penetrated bandaging and the blade sticking out his palm.

But it doesn’t end there. The clown then takes Richie’s stabbed hand and uses the blade that is protruding to finish the carving job on his face. 

Richie collapses to the floor when it’s over, a shaking mess.

“Eddie!” He cries out, terrified and worn.

Richie lays there for a while, trembling and terrified. 

Suddenly he hears running footsteps, and then hands are on him 

“Get the fUCK OFF ME!” Richie screams as he goes to shove the attacker away 

“Calm down! Richie! Holy fuck, it’s me!” 

Eddie grips Richie by the shoulders and Richie continues to push away at him 

“Richie! Richie, you’re okay!” Eddie tries again, jostling Richie back and forth to snap him out of it, finally Richie looks up, eyes wide. He looks like a scared kid 

_ It was all just.. an illusion? _

Richie looks down at his hand, still perfectly bandaged up. Richie looks back up at Eddie

“Eddie I- I saw It- I saw It and he-“

“It was just an illusion Richie” Eddie says as he begins to caress Richie’s shoulders comfortingly.

Richie finally takes a moment to look around. Eddie is kneeling before him, holding onto him with a concerned face. He wasn’t in an old wooden room, he was in a cold, dingy fucking cave. 

Stalactites and stalagmites lining the floor and ceiling, sharp as can bed. Richie looks at the particular one that stabbed his hand before looking back at Eddie.

“I uh,” Richie begins dryly, “I wanted to stop by and say hi” he finally says, breaking out into a relieved smile

Eddie snickers lightly, “glad you didn’t get yourself killed”

Richie nods, “Yeah me too” he responds in a winded voice. 


	18. Eighteen

It was 1994

Music was pounding Richie’s ears through his cheap headphones. The sound was muffled but Richie didn’t care. His fingers beat against the handlebars of his bike to the quick paced music as if he had a drum set in front of him.

It was Saturday and Richie was on his way to work. He got the job a few months ago after his parents pushed him to be “more responsible”. Not that that mattered to Richie, he actually liked having a job, it meant he got money, and money meant movies. Richie was a cinematic freak, he loved going to see drive ins, even if he lacked the car. So his job means the world to him if the world means movies.

Richie bops to the music as his lanky legs peddle away. He nearly runs into some hippy walking on the side of the road.

“Woah- aye man! I’m biking here!” Richie calls out in his New Yorker voice,

“Fucking people..” he groans to himself when the hippy flips him off.

Richie gets off his bike in front of a store with a lit up sign at 2:53pm. That place was Richie’s job. It was a small store in Derry called CD Master.

Richie locks his bike up before going inside.

“You’re late”

“By three minutes”

“Four now”

“Shut the fuck up, Bradley”

_ Son of a bitch thinks he’s cool for not stuttering when he said that. _

Richie clocks in and puts on his name badge.

Richie runs a hand through his overgrown hair and sighs, looking around the gray store. CDs in boxes on tables were in isles on the floors, not to mention a record section and tape section. The floor was that cheap sturdy kind of carpet that Richie hated. The kind of carpet in schools.

Richie walks himself to a backroom that has a tray where movies get slid down when they come back, as CD Master didn’t just cell music, but VCR tapes as well. Richie hangs his brown jacket on the back of the chair and sighs, looking down at the currently off TV.

“Hey there son, ready to get the day started?” A man named Mr. Dawson says, poking his head into the room.

“Sure am, boss” Richie says in a tired voice

Mr. Dawson belts out a nice hearty laugh. He then pats Richie heavily on his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“Well we have a few tapes that need looked at. That lady with the polka dot shoes returned the movie by the way, I want you to check it out, see if she messed it up at all” Mr. Dawson says as he holds out a movie to Richie.

“Yeah I got it” he says as he takes the VHS from his boss. He looks at the box

_ E.T. The ExtraTerrestrial _Richie smirks at the box.

“Thank you, son” Mr. Dawson ruffles the hair on Richie’s head and Richie cringes for only a moment before is over and he is heading out of the room.

Mr. Dawson was a really cool guy. He was an old fashioned man in his late 60s, going bald, he wore flannel every day, and he never skipped on a chance to show you the loafers his wife bought him. He was a good man, pure and kind at heart. Richie liked him, he seemed genuine.

Richie sits down, putting the VHS in the TV.

_ Guess I’m watching E.T. Again _Riche thinks to himself jokingly as he grabs the remote.

Richie sits there, fast forwarding through a lot of the movie, and then backtracking and rewinding every now and then to see where the tape falters. Richie’s job was to see if the movie had falters and then track the tape if needed be. Richie had become accustomed to tracking tapes so it was a very boring job. Luckily, he practiced his voices, impressions, and accents all the while to keep himself busy.

The day goes on and the hours pass, Richie switches from being “rewind boy” (as Bradley liked him) to helping the scarce customers in the main room, even ringing a few people up.

“Have a great day, be sure to come back” Richie calls out after the leaving guest, the bell attached to the door making an awkward clank as the door shuts rather than opens.

Richie adjusts his glasses and straightens up his hawaiian button down right before the phone starts to ring.

Richie answers the call only to find _ Stan the Man _on the other side of the line

Richie’s chest suddenly bursts with excitement

“Imma take a break!” Richie yells over at Bradley, and before he can hear his response, he just returns to the phone and goes to the back room. The Motorola cuts out lightly in some positions so he steadies himself in the corner of the room as to not lose a connection (Mr. Dawson was not up with the times).

“Wot brings ya to my corner?”

Richie starts with a smile, happy his friend is easing the edge at work.

“Oh not a whole lot, just that I found a little something I think you might like”

“Oh and what is that?” Richie asks as he checks his nails

“That is this Walkman I found in my dad’s stuff in garage”

Richie laughs out, positively fueled at the statement

“Holy shit! I didn’t think you’d actually find one”

“You were right, my dad does only listen to classical music”

Richie snickers, “no rock or anything?”

Now Stanley shares a chuck, “Nah, not rock”

Richie stays on the phone with Stanley for while, till the phone starts bugging out and Richie is forced to walk it back to its post

“Richie, I want to hang out tomorrow” Stanley says before Richie has to go

“Yeah? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know, just hang I guess”

Richie smiles “sure thing bud, I got a new volume on that magazine you like so much”

Stanley takes a moment to make a small “yesss” in the background, “okay cool! I’ll talk to you tomorrow at like, 12”

“See ya around Stan the Man, this is D J RICH signing off!”

“Shut up-“ Richie can hear Stanley mutter as he hangs up.

Stanley always laughed when he saw that Richie liked to scratch records. Riche was actually a pretty average disc jockey.

“Richie?” Bradley calls

“Yeah?”

“I gotta go”

Richie turns to look at the boy with a slight speech impediment.

“You have to go? Why?”

“Because m-my mom wanted me to be hh-home by 8:00”

Richie looks over at the clock on the wall in the back of the shop, it reads 8:05

“You couldn’t tell me this earlier?” Richie hated closing, especially when he was alone. Mr. Dawson had already left, for he wanted to get home in time for dinner with his children and wife.

“I forgot till n-ow!”

“Sure you did” Richie teases, leaning against the table the cash register and phone lays on.

“I-I’m s—seri-serious! She’ll get s-o m-mad!”

Bradley stutters out finally

“Okay okay calm down. Fine you can go home. I’ll close up. It’s no worries”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Yeh”

“Gee thanks, R-Richie”

Richie nods before mumbling something like, “it’s nothing”

_ I really don’t want to close alone tonight _ is all he can think as he looks out the window at the darkening streets.

  
  


It is currently 10:13pm. Richie puts his headphones around his neck and attaches the disc player to his hip. He had found his red one at a garage sale, it wasn’t the best but it helped Richie jam out. Guitar solos blasted through the ear muffs as Richie prepared to leave the store. His shirt was half untucked into his pants, which came to mid calf, khaki, and adorned in pockets. Richie’s sneakers began to walk about the shop, scoping to make sure everything was in order.

At last he realizes his day is done and he locks up the store behind him, going up to his chained bike and getting on.

As Richie rides the bike, his mind wanders to Stanley. Recently him and Stanley have been better friends than ever. Everyone had begun to dispatch from the old gang of losers. Ben lived in Texas now, Mike was always busy with work, Beverly was traveling, Bill was beginning to take an interest in his future (as he has discovered a nac for writing) and Eddie was more secluded by his mother than ever.

Richie couldn’t help but lay in bed at night and wonder what Eddie was up to. Richie missed him, he missed him so much. It sounds dramatic but his heart ached from not having him around. Richie breathes in the air as he bikes, thinking about Eddie.

_ Eddie _..

Richie closes his eyes and before he can control it, he is taking the route to the kissing bridge.

The road is dark and lonely, but Richie can’t focus on paranoia right now, he needs to see something.

His tires skid for a moment across the bridge before coming to a halt. Richie lets the bike clank to the ground as he walks up to the wooden boards that holds all sorts of engravings and carvings. But Richie wanted to see one right now, his own. He approaches the fence and looks down.

_ R + E _

Steadily engraved, the E was more shallow than the R. Richie smiles to himself. The feeling that exploded in his chest was real. A feeling he had identified before but still longed to know. This was how he felt with Eddie.

“I can’t believe I came here” he suddenly mutters to himself, shuffling away from the railing

He takes one last good look at the engraving before turning to retrieve his bike-

But he doesn’t make it. As running feet parade out of the tunnel of the bridge, Richie is suddenly ripped from his bike and throw down

“Hey! What the fuck man-?!”

Richie hits the street and two teenagers emerge. One grabs his bike and searches it while the other points a knife at Richie, he immediately shuts up. The teen can’t seem to stay still, shaking as he points the knife.

“The fuck do you have on you?” The boy with the knife growls.

“Nothing man I’m just-“

“Bullshit!” He yells.

Richie begins to think the man is on something, as he keeps shuffling in and place and twitching, he seems beyond hyper active.

_ Four-eyed faggot _Richie hears his mind add,

He remembers it like it was yesterday. Walking in the school halls only to get a sloppy joe pelleted at him by Belch, or Victor randomly snatching his glasses (which Richie desperately needed), or maybe even Hocksetter, who would randomly threaten to set Richie on fire. But worst of all, Henry Bowers. Richie remembers Henry Bowers like it was yesterday.

Suddenly the boy sparks back up, “give me your cd set”

Richie’s stomach twists. He loved this CD player. He even named it Marina (Richie had a habit to name items he loved, like his card set: Blu).

_ Just my luck, _he thinks as he pulls the player off him and has it snatched from his hands.

The man takes the headphones and looks back at his colleague, nodding at each other before looking back at Richie and saying “if you follow us, I’ll fuck you up” and then leaving with his set and his bike.

Richie sits there on the ground for a while before getting up and patting himself off, looking off into the dark distance he thinks,

_ Eddie helped me paint that bike.. _

  
  


The next day, Richie is awoken in his bed by his mother, who complains that it is 12:20pm and he should be up. Richie groggily awakes.

“Stanley is on the line, honey”

Richie looks at her confused, so she explains

“The phone, Richie”

“Oh shit, right”

“Language”

“Sorry mom”

Richie gets up and out of bed, cracking his back intensely just as his mother is leaving. She screams from the sound of consistent popping beneath the skin “Richie! You know I hate it when you do that!” To which Richie laughs and apologizes again.

Richie walks down stairs and sees his dad is at work (“or somewhere else” his mother would sometimes say. Mrs. Tozier was an insecure woman and always wondered if her husband was with another woman). He beelines to the kitchen phone, which was Richie’s favorite phone in the house, and picks it up

“Stan the Man!” Richie chimes

“Hey Richie,” he says before immediately continuing “so you just woke up?”

“Ye’yas I deed”

“That’s hilarious. Okay so I wanted to come over or something, is that cool?”

“Uh yeah I wouldn’t be able to go to your house anyway because ah…” Richie slowly remembers what happened last night as he talks, “I got my bike stolen”

“What?!”

“yeah and my CD player”

“Are you serious? Wait, I’m coming over there and you’re going to explain this to me”

“Oh alright well I’ll ask my mom”

“I’m coming over right now”

“Oh I don’t have a choice?”

“Yep”

“Cool”

The boys slowly start to break out in laughter. They don’t know when their small bit started but it did and they enjoyed it.

“Okay I’m coming over in like, ten minutes. If I can’t come over just call me and let me know”

“Sure thing”

“Aight see you later, Rich”

Richie says “after awhile crocodile” without even thinking about it. _ Eddie taught me that _.

  


Sure enough, Richie asks his mother and she is alright with it, so Stanley comes over as planned.

The doorbell rings and Richie answers. The door swings wide open and Richie sees Stanley. Stanley who is wearing an over the shoulder bag.

“What’s with the purse?” Richie jabs

“What’s with the hair, Trashmouth?” Stanley scoffs back (he always made fun of Richie’s overgrown hair, especially now that he had bed head). Richie wasn’t really called Trashmouth anymore, though he still did indeed have a trash mouth. Stanley called him this every now and then and it was clearly more endearing than spiteful.

Richie laughs, “alright. Come on in”

Stanley shakes his head with a smile and walks inside.

“Hello, Mrs. Tozier” Stanley says politely upon walking in. “Hello Stanley, how are you?” She asks back

“Oh I’m alright, you?”

Richie is cringing as he closes the door, watching their interactions

“Just fine”

Richie stands there for a moment, allowing that to sink in.

“Yowza” was all Richie said

Stanley rolled his eyes and grabbed Richie’s wrist.

“Come on! I have to show you something”

And so Stanley drags Richie up his own stairs to his own bedroom. Richie finally pulls away from Stanley’s grip to shut the door.

“So what’s up?” Richie asks, turning around to face Stanley, who was sitting on Richie’s bed.

Stanley holds out his finger to silence Richie, then he turns and shuffles through his bag. He pulls out a Walkman. Richie walks forward.

“I asked my dad,” Stan begins “you can have it”

Stanley hands the Walkman set to Richie and Richie marvels at it. He slowly takes it from Stanley’s hands.

Richie looks at it in awe, beginning to get more dramatic.

“Oh you marvelous, _ marvelous _ Jewish boy!”

Stanley snorts. Richie takes in how it looks.

_ It looks like a new Walkman is what it looks like _

Richie squeals, actually squeals.

“OH SHIT MAN, Stan the Man! Oh man oh man!” Richie cries in joy

Stanley breaks out in laughter at his friends dramatic episode.

“Yeah yeah yeah I know I’m a great person”

“Not just a great person,” Richie says, finally looking up from his Walkman, “But a great friend”

“Oh shut the fuck up” Stanley says, Richie laughs before looking back at the Walkman.

It didn’t have a tape inside, as the only tapes Stanley found were quite literally only classical bullshit. Richie would have to buy some, but he knew he would get employee discounts at his job, so he suddenly felt even more lucky. The Walkman was a nice silver, and didn’t seem to have any scratches at all. Stanley even had the headphones for it.

“Okay seriously, thank you so much”

“It’s the least I can do, you got your stuff stolen”

“Yeah, you could’ve gotten me a bike”

Stanley smacks Richie’s arm at that comment and Richie laughs.

The boys then spend the rest of their time together playing board games and just hanging out.


	19. The Prelude to Derry

“Trash”

“Bullshit”

“Nope, look”

“... oh come on!”

Richie throws his cards in the air and Eddie winces 

“Well now you’ve made a mess!” Eddie scolds Richie, who threw the cards everywhere out of frustration

“Have you been practicing down here? You weren’t this good when we were younger.” 

The faux velvet satchel that Richie had brought was a small bag full of the deck of cards he has had for about 30 years. He didn’t know what tempted him to bring them from LA, but he’s glad he did. The poker cards Richie’s mother bought for him all those years ago looked surprisingly nice, though a bit worn. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Richie has been able to keep the cards together, resulting in their complete set now. 

The men were playing trash, a game they loved to play as kids. Eddie’s card’s were set up perfectly as he has won the game, and Richie’s cards were currently splayed all over the floor. 

“Yeah Rich, I practiced, let me just whip out my card set I found untouched in the sewers” Eddie says, heavy on the sarcasm.

“Aight well calm down there, spaghetti head”

Eddie give me an odd look with a smile

“Haven’t heard that name in a while”

“Yeah well you haven’t heard anything for a while, you’ve been down here”

“Yeah, I get that”

Richie laughs and smiles over at Eddie, which sparks Eddie to say, “you look like shit” 

Richie blinks, then looks down at his clothing. Eddie snickers,

“Your clothing is all stained up and you look tired” Eddie elaborates

Yes, Richie did look like  _ shit _ , suit for the sewer.

“Yeah I’ve certainly looked better” Richie remarks from looking over his clothing,

“I was kind of running for my life earlier though”

Eddie nods, eyes sweeping over Richie. 

Richie awkwardly clears his throat from the sudden attention on him. 

Eddie, not looking into Richie’s eyes but certainly looking at him, starts back up with something new,

“I really want to get out of here, Richie”

Richie stares over at Eddie, suddenly not caring about the eyes on him, as he would be a hypocrite to care. 

Eddie looks like Eddie. He still looks so surprisingly clean even after spending years in a sewer. Richie can’t help but marvel at him. Eddie must’ve sucked it up and made immediate life changes to survive, and Richie couldn’t help but wonder about that, about how strong Eddie is. Eddie was always one of the strongest people Richie knew. Eddie would stand up to Bowers from time to time, not to mention he kicked the shit out of a clown, he stood up to that 1 ton hell of a mother, and now here he is, surviving in a fucking sewer system.

Richie nods 

“Yeah I want you out of here too”

Eddie finally looks up into Richie’s eyes 

“Tomorrow” 

Richie nearly faints, “tomorrow?”

“I want to leave tomorrow. I just can’t stay down here any longer, I feel like I’m going insane”

Richie feels his heart combust, it’s happening tomorrow. Tomorrow, Richie would be reunited with Eddie for good. He wasn’t ever going to lose connection again. Richie didn’t know exactly what was going to happen between Eddie and himself. What they would  _ become _ . 

He wondered what Eddie thought of this, of Richie coming down to get him, of Richie believing he wasn’t dead, Richie dedicating nearly two years of his life to Eddie. What did Eddie think of it? Did he think of it? Or was he too excited that someone had come for him that he didn’t even take into recognition who it was.

But Eddie did.

Richie smiles, “you’re gonna come back?”

Eddie nods, beginning to smile as well 

“Yeah” 

Richie feels electricity surge through his body, tingling slightly at his fingertips. Suddenly Richie leans back, taking a good look at Eddie. 

_ It’s finally paying off,  _ Richie thinks to himself,  _ all that time and it’s finally here.  _

He takes in a trembling breath before leaning forward and pulling Eddie into a hug. Eddie doesn’t hesitate at all to move forward and wrap his arms around Richie. 

They stay in silence like that for a while.

  
  
  


Meanwhile,

Beverly flies in a plane, currently crossing over New York. Her fingers tap the beverage on the tray before her. Ben sits beside her, sleeping. Ben wasn’t a fan of plane rides, not after his one to Derry, where the plane stuttered it’s movement like crazy right after he made Ricky-Lee think he was going insane. 

Beverly had successfully called all the losers.

Bill had been reluctant but eventually caved in.

Mike couldn’t believe it, but as she kept talking to him, he seemed more like his mad old self. 

Ben was rather easy, as he lived with her and simply trusted Beverly.

They all reached an agreement that they need to meet in Derry by December 17th

Beverly was already on her way down, as she didn’t want to waste a moment to see Richie at a time like this. 

Beverly leans on Ben’s shoulder and looks at her glass, pondering. 

She wonders just what the losers are in store for.

  
  
  


Currently, in New York, a limousine company lays dead. Myra remembers the drive Eddie had scheduled the day he left. Eddie Kaspbrak had owned one of the ( _ if not the _ ) biggest limousine companies in New York, getting constant visits by celebrities. His drive that fateful day was suppose to be Al Pacino. Eddie though, had told Myra to do it herself, as he had needed to leave for Derry. Myra did not want to let him go, in fact, she told him he wouldn’t, but he did. 

Eddie had actually planned on getting a divorce. His relationship with Myra had been spiraling out of control, for she was a carbon copy of his mother. However, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how she was doing every now and then, and what was her reaction was when he never came home.


	20. Quarry Lake

Richie took a glance over the cliff and down at the lake before them. 

_ Sheesh. I feel like that drop will kill me. _

Richie thinks as he backs away from the edge.

The four boys stood on the cliff of the Quarry, all in nothing but their tighty-whities.

“Bill, are you trying to get us killed?”

Richie finally says, adjusting his glasses 

“N-No. People jump off a-all the time. It’s fun”

“Fun for people with a death wish” Stanley mutters to himself, his arms crossed over his chest, holding himself

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Eddie says “it’s not too far down” 

“Did you even look, Spaghetti Head?”

Richie asks, egging him on 

“I’ve been here before! With Bill”

“Have you jumped off?”

“No”

“So then you don’t know”

Eddie throws his hands up, frustrated.

“G-Guys, let’s just line up and play a game”

“Let's play Loogie!” Eddie chimes, immediately better

“Th-that’s what I w-as thinking!”

“Loogie?” Richie questions, Stanley standing beside him, squinting because the sun is in his eyes.

“It’s where you spit over the edge, whoever gets farthest and has the best loogie wins” Eddie explains

Richie blinks a few times, letting that sink in 

_ What the shit kind of entertainment?  _

“I’m not so sure I’m on board with that my good fellow” Richie says in a weird voice

Richie also takes a moment to think about how Eddie and Bill spend more time with each other behind his back. Though that was a bit hypocritical, as he did hang out with Stanley alone more. 

“Just t-try it” Bill says, determined as ever. Richie gives Bill a quick look before sighing, caving in, 

“Alright I’ll give it a go. Imma give you the best goddamn loogie you’ve ever seen in your life” Richie says, walking up to the edge of the cliff again. Bill smiles and follows, now standing beside Richie. Eddie is next, going to be beside Bill. Stanley stands behind them, and when the three boys look back at him, he swallows. 

“This seems kind of dangerous” he says

“Loogies?” Eddie questions

“No!.... the jumping off thing”

“Jeez, You’re Stan the Man, not Stan the scared little Jewish boy! Get up here, don’t be a pussy!” 

Richie calls out for him 

Stanley gives Richie a look in return. 

“I-It’s okay, St-Stanley. I think we are a-all a little scared” 

Stanley bites at the inside of his lip before walking up beside Richie, arms still wrapped around himself. 

“Okay, So what’s next?” Richie questions 

“Get a good honkin’ loogie in your throat and prepare to launch!” Eddie sparks up

Richie nods and laughs immaturely when Bill makes a hacking noise to build up a really good wad of phlegm. 

Bill is the first to spit, it makes it maybe a foot out from the cliff’s edge, Eddie spits about the same, Richie’s goes about one and a half feet and Stanley spits out a puny amount, the ‘loogie’ (if you could even call it that) just barely escaping the jagged rocks on the side of the cliff. 

“I-I think Richie won” Bill says, looking over at him. 

Richie explodes with excitement,

“Uh, Hell Yeah I won!” 

“Yeah yeah whatever, my throat is just a little dry today” Eddie says, looking out at the lake 

Richie scoffs, “yeah, alright, just accept your defeat” 

“S-So now we jump” Bill says, looking over the edge, then backing up behind the three other boys.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part” Richie comments, “Hey, you know what else we can do? Go to the arcade and play games”

“We’re jumping. What? Are you too chicken?” Eddie remarks with a smirk

Richie opens his mouth but just then Bill Denbrough races past the two of them, jumping into the lake. They both stare after him wide eyed

“He’s dead” Richie says, watching as Bill dives into the water. Stanley, Richie, and Eddie watch as Bill’s head resurfaces, he looks up and signals a thumbs up.

“Holy smokes!” Richie exclaims, “He’s immortal!” He gets a few chucks out of himself. 

Eddie bites his lower lip and heaves air. Their belongings were down by the lake, so Eddie’s aspirator was only a jump off a cliff away. He steadies his breathing and closes his eyes 

“Here we go” Eddie says 

“What?!” Richie exclaims, genuinely shocked

_ Is he fucking crazy? _

Eddie runs, leaping off the cliff, screaming all the while.

_ He did it  _ Richie thinks to himself, watching in astonishment as his friend who suffers from asthma and can’t part from his  _ fake air _ jumps off a cliff. 

Richie blinks, “well now we have to jump, Stan”

Richie stares down at the water, not getting a response

“Stan?” He repeats as he turns around.

Stanley is holding himself still, closing in silently. He stares out at the water and shakes his head.

“This is suicide” he finally mutters 

“That’s what I thought but, hey, if someone with glass bones like Eddie could do it than we can, right?” 

Stanley reluctantly walks to the edge

“This is bullshit” Stanley says quietly

“Look! It’s not hard, see!” And without thinking, just doing it for the sake of the bit, Richie jumps off the cliff, cannonballing into the water below

He screams out a big “YAHOOOOO” before colliding with the water, making a big splash.

Everything is muffled as water fills Richie’s ears. He gasps when he comes back up to the surface. Bill and Eddie’s cheers and clapping were now audible and Richie felt so alive.

It had been a stressful week at school. This is exactly what he needed. He never knew jumping off a cliff could be so fulfilling.

Richie swims over to Bill and splashes him. Eddie was on the land, taking a shot from his aspirator. 

Stanley looks over the side, afraid to get close. He runs his hands through his hair “god I hate my friends so much” he hisses to himself. He looks away and closes his eyes before running and jumping- screaming out for a second, his voice cracking, then being silent the rest of the way down. He splashes into the water and Richie cheers louder than Bill and Eddie do. 

“YOU DID IT, STAN THE MAN! MY GOD- YOU’VE DONE IT!” he cries out in absolute joy. Stanley surfaces and gasps, hearing all the cheering. It makes Stanley smile as he rubs at his eyes filled with water. 

  
  


The four boys laugh and splash at each other. Richie and Eddie have a breath holding contest and Richie cheats, Bill calls him out so Eddie won (But Richie calls this  _ by default _ ). The water is still and relaxing. The sun glistens beautifully so across the water in ribbons. Shadows of trees reflect on the water. The sky is mostly clear and blue, and the sun is coming through the trees in beams. It was a beautiful day. The  _ perfect  _ day.

  
  


The boys sit on rocks by the lake, air drying awkwardly. 

“We should bring music next time” Eddie says randomly 

Richie claps his hands and then gestures finger guns at Eddie, “that’s what I was thinkin’!” He says excitedly. 

Eddie nods, “right? Something cooler though-“

“Like rock?” Richie suggests 

“What kind of rock are we talking?”

“Like: Queen, Rolling Stones, AC/DC, Fleetwood Mac, David-“ 

“Yes, exactly that” Eddie agrees, blown away by how spot on Richie is.

They have a giddy moment together, laughing at how in sync they are 

“Uhm- What just happened?” Stanley says, snickering

“I-I agree! W-we should bring mu-music next time” 

Bill chimes, nodding his head at the thought.

“Then It’s settled! I’ll see if I can borrow my dad’s stereo!” Richie says

“Or I can bring muh-mine, I have one” Bill says

Eddie nods “that might be easier”

“Uhm okay-?” Richie says, almost genuinely ticked for a second.

Stanley pinches his lips together, noticing the same thing Richie is. Though of course, he is silent about it.

  
  


The day begins to come to an end, everyone dressed up to go home. Bill has to leave first and Eddie almost leaves with him- But then decides he’d stay behind.

Eddie grabs his fanny pack and straps it around his waist, taking one more burst of oxygen before putting his inhaler away for the night. Stanley says something about his dad, something like  _ “he’ll be so mad at me”  _ , Richie didn’t understand why his dad would be mad at him. But he didn’t have time to understand as Stanley had already left. Richie grabs his backpack, which was stored with snacks, his clothes at some point, water, and a blanket. Eddie looks over at Richie and smiles.

“Well I better get going” Eddie says

Richie nods at him, then finally speaks

“Alright” 

“See you later alligator” 

Richie stands there, dumbfounded

“Uhm- Cool, i'll see you at school tomorrow-“

“No,” Eddie begins, “you say: after a while crocodile’” 

Richie stares at Eddie, blinking a few times, then adjusting his glasses, pushing them up. 

“After awhile crocodile?” Richie says, unsure 

Eddie nods and smiles approvingly, before turning and running to his bike.

Richie stares off in his direction 

_ Why is he so weird?  _


	21. Lunch

December 16th, today was the day. 

Richie damn near skips up to the Well, excited beyond belief. He almost couldn’t sleep last night, he was just so ready. In fact, Richie had been ready for the past two years. But now it was happening. Eddie was going to come home. 

Richie slips down the well. 

He waits for him in the room with the trap door. It had been about an hour since he had arrived.

_ God this place sucks _ , Richie thinks as his eyes scan about the ominous cavern.

Suddenly, the trap door opens, and Richie braces himself. 

Eddie comes out. He stands and nudges the door closed with his foot. Eddie turns and nearly slips on the wet wood. He steadies himself and then emerges into the waist deep water to get across the room. 

Richie was trembling, he simply couldn’t handle the time it was taking for Eddie to be beside him, to be safe. He just wanted this all to be certain. 

Sure enough, Eddie wades across before stumbling on land. Richie helps him up

“Oh this is gonna suck when you go outside. It’s freezing!” Richie remarks. Eddie is now drenched.

_ I’m going to catch a cold  _ Eddie’s head adds. 

“Yeah yeah, we will get there when we get there,” he says as he gets up, straightening his clothing out. 

“Okay now lets get the fuck outta here” Richie says as he begins walking. But he suddenly feels mixed up, and can’t remember where he’s supposed to go. 

“It’s that way” Eddie says pointing to the right

“Ah yes, right-o you are my good sir” Richie says with a nod as he heads in the correct direction.

  
  


Richie climbs up the well, the sky filled with clouds that are sprinkling snow in slow motion. He breathes in the air. He gets out, setting his foot on the ground. Richie steps forward, looking back at the Well to watch the unthinkable. 

Eddie Kaspbrak,  _ “missing”  _ for 2 years, emerging from the well on Neibolt street. Alive and okay. 

Yes, he had gaping wounds on his stomach and back, and yes, his clothing looked like shit and they were drenched, but he was alive. 

Eddie steps out of the Well, his eyes wide and looking up at the sky. 

He heard nothing this time. No one was screaming “come back” in his head. And Eddie was grateful for that. 

Eddie was freezing, but he was also staring at the snow falling gracefully. 

“Holy shit..” Eddie says to himself 

Richie nods, agreeing, “Holy shit”

Eddie blinks and runs hands through his hair. 

“Richie, I’m so fucking hungry” 

Richie laughs, damn near crying because he’s really emotional right now (but he wasn’t about to admit that).

“That’s all you have to say? Not some poetic shit like ‘ _ I haven’t seen the sun in years _ ’??”

“That wasn’t poetic enough for you?” 

“No not at all, you sounded like your mom” 

“Hey, go fuck yourself”

Richie snickers, “hey hey hey come on, it’s a joke”

“I’m here, alive and shit, and that’s what you’re gonna say to me?”

Richie’s jaw drops, “ah?! Excuse me, but I do believe some of your  _ last words  _ to me were ‘ _ I fucked your mom _ ’”

Eddie smiles, “whoops” 

“Mother fucker” 

  
  


Richie starts up the car. He takes in a deep breath of air, holding it, and then puffing it out. He turns his head to the passenger seat where Eddie sits.

“Buckled up, buttercup?”

“Richie, food, I’m starving”

“Right,” Richie goes to drive off but just as his hand lowers to the gear shift he remembers something.

“Eddie, we gotta go back to my hotel first”

“What? Why?” Eddie demands 

“Uhm??” Richie gestures to him, to all of him. 

Eddie blinks a few times before it hits him.

_ I look awful. _

_ I’m so dirty. _

_ I’m disgusting. _

_ I’ll get sick.  _

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, almost forgetting how to breathe.

“Lets just fucking go” Eddie says, sounding desperate and in need 

“That can be arranged” Richie quickly says with an awkward nod. 

Richie switches to drive and leaves Neibolt street.

  
  


Richie cranks the heat up in his car, making sure Eddie feels fine- hell, he even offered his jacket at some point, to which Eddie said  _ “I already got one of your jackets”  _ with a smile as he pulled the damp jacket over him more. 

The ride is completely silent as they drive to the hotel. 

A car nearly switches into their lane, almost nailing the side of Richie’s rental

“Woahwoahwoah!” Eddie says as the car swerves

“Sorry I had to-“  _ avoid the car  _ was what Richie was going to say, before Eddie starts to go off on a tangent about the shitty drivers in Derry. And Eddie truly does goes off. Eddie, who used to be silent as can be, is now ignited in irritation, talking about how shitty of drivers people are nowadays. Eddie flips the bird to the person in the BMW as they drive past. 

“You really lit into them!” Richie laughs

“I couldn’t help it, I use to drive nearly everyday, also, you forgot your turn signal”

He says as Richie switches over to the far left. 

_ Ah, I dont know what I expected from a man who use to fucking drive limousines.  _

Eddie drove limousines for years and he even owned a well renowned business- he rarely did drives himself anymore, as he just owned the company, but he liked to choufer every now and then. No, Before the events, Eddie had been a Risk Analyst.  _ Whatever a ‘Risk Analyst’ is…  _ Richie’s mind adds.

“So, we are going to go to your hotel, getting cleaned up, then we can go out to eat?”

Richie nods, “I’m basically taking you out on a date” he says with a smile, awaiting Eddie’s response. 

“I’m just going for the food” Eddie says, snickering 

Richie’s jaw drops, “That’s cold. I’m cleaning up for you”

“You’re cleaning up too? Why?”

“I just have some sewer gunk on me now. Plus I think I need a bath after looking at you”

Eddie sets his jaw and rolls his eyes. 

He picks on Richie’s driving more and more all the way home just to annoy him a bit after that comment.

  
  


The men make it to the hotel, walking in and immediately going straight to Richie’s room, as they already got a few strange looks on the way up for Eddie’s appearance. 

“Alright, get the fuck in the shower. You smell like actual shit” Richie says as he opens his hotel door by swiping his key card.

“It’s probably because I’ve been in a sewer for two years”

“Or maybe your decomposing because you’re dead and all, or something like that”

Richie receives a look from Eddie, “beep beep Richie”

“That’s fair” 

Eddie slides in the bathroom that is to the left upon walking in, disappointed to see hotel supplied soaps and not  _ real  _ ones. 

Richie opens one of his two suitcases and pulls out lazily tossed in clothing. 

He strips himself of his jacket and unbottons the shirt he is wearing. Richie jerks his belt away from his body and lays it on the bed, kicking off his pants as he hears the shower run. 

_ This is crazy _ he thinks to himself as he pulls a shirt back over his head. It’s a long sleeve, beige shirt, good for colder days. Then he grabs a flannel he had stolen from a target one time and pulls it on over the long sleeve.

He is pulling on some faded jeans right as his phone begins to buzz on the bed. Richie looks over the screen to read  _ Beverly Marsh  _

He smiles and immediately answers, setting it to speaker- as he normally always did. He remembers when speaker phone was first a thing

_ God I’m old  _

“Hello hello hello, you are speaking to Richie Tozier, the happiest man alive”

“Get married?” She asks playfully

“Nah, something better” Richie says as he grabs his discarded belt off the bed, easing it through the guidance loops on his jeans before buckling. 

“Spill the beans, Rich” 

“Eddie is here”

She makes an excited sound, “Holy shit! Richie, this is- this is incredible!” 

Richie even strides up to the bathroom door, phone in hand. He cracks open the door and yells into the bathroom 

“Hey you’re taking forever, I’m going to leave without you”

“I basically just got in dipshit!” Eddie yells back, earning a scream from Beverly on the phone as she hears him.

Richie laughs and closes the door

“See?” He begins “he’s actually here. In the flesh. Alive. And sure, he’s kind of got a hole in his abdomen that looks like a bigger version of my hand but it’s alright, I can look past that for right now” 

“How romantic of you” 

“Yes I’m a fucking catch, I know”

Beverly laughs and then chimes a “well! Guess what?” 

“What’s goin’ on Bev?”

“I’m in Derry. Ben and I arrived last night but we passed out as soon as we got here” 

Richie smiles to himself, “Beverly I- god- thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you, truly I’m-“

“For you? Anything”

“Anything?”

She laughs, simply brushing the (over-used) joke aside as she continues

“Where did you want to meet? What time?”

“Uhm.. I really have no idea? Eddie is starved so we are going to get food”

“Like a date?” She jokes

“If he isn’t in love with me by the end of this lunch, can I dump him back into the sewers?”

She laughs brightly. Beverly’s laugh was always something Richie looked forward to, it was just so real, so bare. 

“If he isn’t in love with you for finding out he’s alive, dump him back in the sewers” she corrects 

Richie laughs “alright, will do” 

He looks in the mirror on the wall, finger combing his hair before grabbing his maroon jacket he had tossed over the side of a desk chair. 

“Richie, have a good time at lunch”

He smiles softly to himself 

“Take it easy Bev. I’ll call you later” 

“Love you, Trashmouth”

“Right back at you,  _ beaverly _ ” 

She snorts and says something like  _ “oh my god!”  _ before continuing to hang up. 

Once the call has ended, Richie sighs and looks at himself in the mirror. Just a 42 year old man stares back. Not a whole lot special, that is until he notices a smudge on the mirror that bugs him. He moves forward, using his sleeve to ease the smudge out. His eyes focus in on the mirror when suddenly through his peripherals he sees something  _ red. _

Richie looks up, eyes widening by the second 

_ S e c r e t  _ is written in red all across the top of the mirror. Richie backs up, his legs hitting the bed behind him, buckling as a result. He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes before placing them back on his nose and looking back.

It’s gone.

Richie takes a second to register what just happened. After all, there was no way Richie just thought he saw that. He most certainly did see it. It was solid.

_ An illusion,  _ his mind revels in the realization.

He swallows hard, looking around to see nothing threatening.  _ Maybe I’m just losing it _ Richie doubts himself, but deep down, he is sure of what he saw. 

Just then, the shower stops. Richie shakes it off and plugs in his phone. He sits there, on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his social media- some loyal followers asking if he’s okay in comments considering he has been bailing on shows. 

The bathroom door opens and Eddie pokes his head past the door frame. 

“What am I going to wear?” He asks, to which Richie groans while getting up from the bed, walking over to his suitcase and pulling out select clothing. Richie hands Eddie the clothing

“Thanks,” Eddie says “though I’m not sure I want to wear what you have to offer”

“My fashion sense isn’t that butchered” Richie says back. 

Richie’s eyes accidentally trail down to what he can see from this angle. Which sounds perverse, but is quite the opposite when Richie gets a glimpse of that gaping hole in his body- Richie immediately looks away. He doesn’t know what he was thinking.

“Oh g o d”

He says, his body shuddering. He fights the urge to throw up.

“I tried to keep you from seeing it!” Eddie says with a laugh as he takes the clothing and shuts the bathroom door to get dressed. 

Richie walks back over to the bed, sitting down and looking at his phone again. 

It’s only a few minutes before Eddie walks out. Richie looks up to see Eddie all cleaned up.

“How do I look?” Eddie asks, looking down at himself. The jeans fit pretty alright, but he did roll those puppies up at the ankle maybe four times. The belt Richie gave him is also probably aiding immensely. Eddie is wearing a blue quarter sleeve shirt of Richie’s, his arms still cradling Richie’s old jacket. He is just wearing his own dirty shoes.

Richie stares for a moment

Then he responds, 

“Well damn! You clean up well” 

He turns away and grabs a hunter green coat, then offering it to Eddie. Eddie takes it and slides it over his shoulders.

Richie walks past Eddie, grabbing his wallet and keys off a small table by the door, he then turns to ruffle Eddie’s hair, to which Eddie shoves his hand away, and he opens the door.

  
  


“Why the fuck is that idiot parking there?” Is all Eddie says as Richie pulls into the Chinese buffet parking lot 

“What do you mean?” Richie asks as he pulls his key from the ignition. 

“This guy in the fucking Corolla, see him? Over there?”

A man across the street was parallel parking (albeit not very good) on the side of the street, where it is indeed, very illegal to park. 

“I’m sure he’s just gonna be there for a second” Richie says before turning around to go inside 

“HEY! Turn on your fucking hazards or something, moron!” Eddie yells from across the street, Richie hurriedly collecting the smaller man and pulling him away 

“Alright - Mr. Kaspbrak, your New Yorker is showing” 

“Fucking people” is all Eddie groans as Richie guides him into the buffet. 

As soon as they are in, Eddie loses all bite and is suddenly feeling that painful starvation again upon smelling the (not real) Asian food. 

The two of them get a booth together. Richie sets his stuff down on the table, and normally Eddie would yell at Richie that that’s dangerous and someone could steal his shit, but Eddie was too busy already wandering over to the isles of food. 

His eyes were wide and taking in the selection. It’s then that Richie can’t seem to take his eyes off of Eddie, and Eddie either doesn’t care or doesn’t seem to notice. Richie bets it the ladder, as Eddie seems much to engrossed with food to care that someone is staring at him. Richie stands close by Eddie’s side, staring over his shoulder at the food he stacks on his plate, a soft smile on his face. 

The look in Eddie’s eyes is something Richie missed. Eddie looked as excited as a child on Christmas as he loaded his plates (because he now had two on the tray). Richie fills up his own plate, following Eddie wherever he goes in the buffet. He points out foods and says small things like “that looks good” to Eddie, giving him all the more ideas of what to shove down his throat..

  
  


Richie stares at Eddie scarf down noodles. 

_ These plates look like they’re gonna eat Eddie _ , Richie thinks to himself as he takes in the vast amount of food on the table. 

Richie takes a sip from his drink before talking, 

“You look like you haven’t eaten in years”

Eddie looks up at Richie, a brow quirked.

“Oh,” Richie realizes, “never mind” 

_ He literally hasn’t eaten in two years, idiot _

Richie runs a hand through his hair and adjusts his glasses 

_ How awkward _

Richie’s eyes scan the restaurant. It was by no means full, as 11:13am wasn’t exactly the time people normally came to a Chinese buffet. Richie sighs

“So what have you been up to?” Eddie asks between bites, looking up at Richie 

“Hm?”

“What have you been up to? How’s work? Are you seeing anyone?”

“No-“ Richie immediately says, realizing that he only answered the last question and that wasn’t even clear. He coughs, clearing out his throat before trying again,

“Well, I’ve been basically trying to tell everyone you weren’t dead, works kind of been shitty because I’m canceling on so much stuff. And ah- no, not seeing anyone” 

Eddie nods, 

“Are you still not writing your own jokes?” 

Richie laughs, messing with the straw in his drink.

“Actually!” Richie exclaims, proud, “I am” 

Eddie beams, “you’re shitting me”

“Nope, I talked to Steve- my friend and basically agent- and he said ‘are you funny?’ And I said ‘of course I’m funny! What kind of friend are you?’ And he laughed and said ‘well that’s all I need to know’. The next day, he told my writers that he would find a different job for them. Feel kind of bad about it but not bad enough” 

Eddie nods, smiling, “well I’m glad. You’re a funny guy, Rich”

“I am aren’t I?”

“Okay well, don’t get too flattered” Eddie jokes as he shovels more food into his mouth. 

Richie smiles down at his plate, his fork digging into some sweet and sour chicken. 

“But yeah, you are funny” Eddie adds, a smile on his face before it’s interrupted by a straw. 

“Thank you Eds”

“Don’t call me Eds” 

Richie at first, smiles to himself, thinking about how Eddie used to say that all the time. But then, when Richie lifts his head, he sees Eddie grinning at him.

That’s when Richie realizes that the response wasn’t automated, it was purposeful. Eddie said that with the goal of getting a kick (or perhaps a chuck) out of Richie. This realization makes Richie’s chest swell with an all too familiar feeling. 

He looks away and laughs, feeling nervous and giddy. Feeling like a kid.


	22. The Aftermath

It was the summer of 2016, Eddie had left two days ago and Myra had heard nothing. No call from Eddie, no call from Derry, no sign of him. 

Myra had driven Al Pacino that day Eddie left, as he had convinced her to. Al Pacino was only a little snobby but it wasn’t too bad. Myra feared that he would be an asshole, and yell at her. The only mistake Myra had made on the drive was she took a wrong turn, and Al Pacino simply said so. She took it personally for only two minutes, which is a new record for her.

Myra sat at home, alone. She cried and wondered where her husband was, if he had just walked out on her, or if he had gotten himself hurt. For a whole day she awaited a call. Even a text. Nothing. Eddie had sent her nothing. So she blew up his phone only to get no response. She barely slept that night, scared of where her Eddie Bear might be. 

The next day she tried again, calling him. But he didn’t answer. She freaked out to her mother on the phone about his disappearance, then to her friends via Facebook. 

Now, she lays broken hearted by the phone, waiting for it to ring and for her loving husband to return home. 

  
  
  
  
  


Richie dragged his feet with the will of absolutely nothing up the stairs of the hotel. His gaze was affixed downward and his head was congested with a million different thoughts. 

_ Eddie died _ was certainly the most recurring one.

Beverly watches with sad eyes as Richie fights to bring himself up the stairs. Richie’s hands hang limply at his sides, clammy and cold. He walks down the hall to go to his room when he hears a phone ringing. He looks in the direction of the noise:

The room Eddie stayed in.

Beverly can’t bite her tongue any longer

“Guys, we shouldn’t have left him there” she suddenly says. 

Bill runs his hands through his hair, frazzled 

“We couldn’t have, Bev,” Bill says, “you know that” 

She shakes her head, “but we didn’t even try” she covers her mouth, her eyes closing as tears threaten to flood. 

Mike lowers his head, “... I’m so sorry, this is all my fault” he says. He slumps down in to a chair.

“What? No, this is no one’s fault” Bill says as he looks at the two people in distress

Ben’s eyes travel over to the stairs, he looks at the group and then back at the stairs. 

“The place was crashing down, we escaped! We did what he had to” Bill finishes before crossing his arms over his chest and looking down in denial. 

Slowly, Ben exits the room, taking cautious steps toward the staircase

“It happened right in front of him,” Beverly sobs quietly to herself, “oh god he’s going to need so much help. Bill, we need to help Richie out as much as we can” 

“Bev,” Bill begins

“Of course,” Mike says as he nods his head 

“Of course” he repeats

Ben’s hand grazes the railing of the staircase, he looks up at the second floor. Then he hears it, those sobs and dry heaves coming from the upstairs. His eyes grow concerned as he slowly begins to walk up. He rounds the corner and walks down the hall, Richie’s sobs getting louder and closer. Ben passes up Richie’s room without even thinking about it as he eyes Eddie’s room number. The door is shut. 

“Where is Ben?” Bill questions as he looks around 

Beverly raises her head and looks as well, while Mike just barely glances. 

“Probably gathering his things” Mike suggests 

Bill doesn’t seem sold on the thought, as he scans the room. 

“Ben?” He calls out 

Beverly gets up to her feet and immediately starts for the stairs in a speed walk.

Ben tries the door knob quietly. Locked.

_ Is Richie.. talking to someone?  _ Ben wonders as he puts his head against the door to listen in. There is a woman’s voice in the room. It sounds like Richie was on the phone. 

“Richie?” Ben calls out softly, hearing a stifled cry behind the door. Ben knocks,

“Hey man, it’s just me. Can I come in?” He asks in a soothing voice. 

Richie doesn’t respond however, as he just tries to silence his crying. Ben backs away from the door just as Beverly is approaching. 

She knocks, quicker paced and more scared than what Ben had done earlier. 

“Richie? Rich, it’s me,” 

Beverly says,

“It’s  _ just  _ going to be me, alright?” Beverly looks at Ben as she says that. Ben nods before tearing himself away from his friend in need, knowing Beverly was closer with Richie than he was, therefore he knew she could better get to him. Ben walks off and goes back downstairs 

Mike and Bill were coming up just as Ben was going down 

“Turn your happy asses back around, gentlemen, we’re going back downstairs” 

Ben says as he ushers them off the steps. 

Beverly stands there for a while longer with no response from Richie. She begins to wonder if he’ll ever open the door. Finally, she hears the sound of a lock twisting. The door opens.

Richie stands before Beverly, completely stripped of any sort of dignity. 

_ He looks awful  _ Beverly thinks to herself, taking in the sight. There he was, jacket-less and broken. 

His glasses were cracked and his eyes were still spilling tears, his face hot.

Beverly smiles softly, sympathetically, but even she falters. She looks down and walks herself into the room, closing the door behind them. Richie trudges over to the bed and sits down, a phone beside him.

Beverly sands awkwardly, not knowing what to say in a moment like this. 

“Richie,”

“I loved him” he suddenly says. 

His jaw is set and he takes in a trembling breath through his nose, releasing steadily. His eyes are closed, and his brow twitches upon furrowing hard. 

“I fucking loved him” he says again, this time breaking down immediately after. 

Beverly watches as her friend comes undone. His hands come up to his face, shaking beyond belief, he rubs at his eyes, smearing the tears over his face before just sinking into his palms and covering himself from the world.

Beverly nods, tears suddenly spilling hot from her eyes, “I know, honey” she walks forward, leaning down to pull the trembling man into a tight hug. 

Richie reciprocates immediately, whipping off his glasses before his arms wrap around Beverly’s back. He cries into her shoulder, soaking the shirt.

Beverly’s hand threads through the hair on the back of Richie’s head.

“I’m so sorry” she says in a breaking quiet voice.

Richie’s fingers grip at the fabric on her back as he mutters, “I loved him so much” against her. 

She pulls away, holding Richie’s shoulders now as she looks at his face. 

“Oh god don’t do that” he says as he turns his face away and shades it with a hand. 

“I look awful- I’ve got fucking- snot trailing down my chin” 

“Well I got your snot on my shoulder so I don’t really give a shit” she replies as she sits beside him, looking at the phone that lays on the bed. 

The phone lights up, its screen is bright in the dark curtain drawn room. The phone reads  _ 1 new voicemail _ . 

There is a small silence before she starts up again, “I’ve always known, Richie” she says, nodding her head before looking at him.

_ You two always had a connection  _ she muses in her mind. 

Richie looks away, taking a deep breath. He is hunched over, his head lowered in sorrow. 

“Yeah… I figured you just might” 

Beverly’s hand meets Richie’s back, caressing in soothing circles and rubbing lightly. 

Richie looks over at Beverly, who offers him a smile. He looks askance before straightening up and looking at the phone..

“Listen to this…” Richie says, grabbing his glasses and Eddie’s phone. He puts on his glasses before unlocking the cell(he had gotten the password right on his first try: 9376. It was Eddie’s birthday). 

Richie’s face is illuminated as he fetches something for Beverly on the phone, biting his lip all the while, still sniffling from time to time. 

Finally, he pinches his lips together and closes his eyes, holding the phone up 

The phone begins to talk in a females wrecked voice

_ “Eddie..! Eddie Bear, I’ve called you so many times, where are you??? I’m so scared honey, I really want you home soon. Oh gosh, I’ve been so alone. You better tell me why you aren’t responding when you get back! I’m just- I’m just so worried baby! I want to know how you are. I want to be sure you are okay. Ohh… Eddie.. where are youuu….??? I love you so much, please call me baaaack…!”  _

The voicemail ends and Richie accidentally lets out another stifled cry before recovering and taking a deep breathe, groaning out in a broken voice. Beverly stares at the phone, then looks to Richie. 

“She sounds just like his fucking mother too”

He says as he nods. 

“There’s about a million messages just like this one. And look at his fucking texts” 

Beverly looks over at Richie’s lap as he scrolls through text messages. It’s just a complete slew of worried short texts with some long angry and confused paragraphs here and there. 

“We have to tell her” Richie states 

Beverly looks over at him

“How are we going to fucking tell her is the question” he says as he runs a hand through his hair

Beverly takes the phone from Richie’s hands, looking down at it. 

She looks back up at Richie, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry Richie” 

Beverly takes just one more moment to soak in how Richie looks.

_ Richie looks broken, _ Beverly thinks,  _ but he also looks fixable. _

  
  


Just as Beverly is about to let Richie have some alone time, he calls out for her, 

“And Beverly?”

“Yes?” 

“The… the Eddie thing… can we keep that a secret? I fully plan on-“

There were multiple Eddie things that he could be talking about, but Beverly knew exactly what he meant,

“Of course, Richie. That’s for you to talk about, not me” she says before smiling at Richie, and he actually has it in him to smile back.

  
  


Beverly did take care of it. She discussed with Ben about how that would be done. 

“We will probably have to report him missing” is what Ben said. And it seemed like the only option. 

So they reported Eddie missing. 

And Myra got her call, only it wasn’t from Eddie, but the Police Department of Derry.

  
  
  
  



	23. Derry

A plane arrives in Derry on December 17th, 2:55am. The plans lands successfully and everyone is getting out of their seats to grab their luggage. Bill hated riding planes and going to airports (though he didn’t at some point, as a boy, Bill loved the thought of air travel. But the changes made after 9/11 deterred him now), but he also hated Derry. 

Bill would say he was over the events that have occurred, but he was far from it. He still felt haunted by Georgie’s death, and he always thought about poor Stanley Uris. But bill hated Derry most of all, because if he blamed anyone, he blamed the Clown. And Bill would bet his life that that clown is the embodiment of Derry. The small town is filled with a festering hate that lives on, and Bill wanted nowhere near it. 

Yet here he was, in a plane (which he hated) that had just landed in Derry (which he hated). 

The process of getting out of the airport is long and tedious, taking at least two hours. Bill waits for the taxi he called. 

_ Eddie is alive  _ he thinks in his head,  _ how is Eddie alive?  _

Not that Bill had anything wrong with Eddie being alive, it was great! He just simply couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Eddie, who had been left presumably dead in the sewers for two years, was back. He was suspicious as to what this all meant. 

The taxi driver pulls up and Bill gets in. 

Bill tells the driver where he’s heading and he’s on his way to the hotel. Bill was tired. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to lie down in bed and tell his wife that he loves her. Bill runs a hand through his hair, sighing as he looks out the window of the car. The speeding by roads are dark, only lit by streetlights and bright signs. 

Bill did dread coming back to Derry, but he had prepared himself for whatever was going to get thrown at him. He was dedicated to his friends. Bill might of been scared shitless of being in Derry, but he was also a good friend, and he wanted to see Eddie.

Bill walks in through the glass doors of the hotel he had made reservations for. The hotel was nice, but a solid change from the hotel he had gotten last. This one was much more modern, as he didn’t necessarily want to be reminded of the events that took place in the other location. 

The last time the losers met back up in Derry two years ago, they had planned to meet at a designated hotel, but now, however, they were all split up, which Bill had dreaded the thought of.

“Hi, I reserved a suit”

“Okay, what's your name sir?”

“Ah- Bill Denbrough” 

The lady behind the counter looks at him and then beams 

“Oh yes of course! I saw the movie that came out on your book”

Bill nods, knowing what her answer would be to his response, “How did you like it?”

“The movie’s ending was better than the Novel’s”

Bill smiles and nods his head laughing, then changing the subject with, “do you need my card?”

  
  


Bill finishes the transaction, grabbing both of his suit cases and standing before the elevator. Bill presses the up button and waits. The elevator arrives and the doors open, chanting a small mechanical ‘going up’. Bill grabs his things and goes to enter before he stops and smiles at the sight before him

“Well I’ll be damned!” Bill chimes 

In the elevator is Mike Hanlon. 

Mike smiles, “Bill! Holy shit, how are you man?” 

Mike walks out of the elevator. The doors shut and Bill doesn’t care that he missed his ride up. 

“I’m great! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you I suppose. Did Beverly call you?”

Bill nods, “Yeah”

Mike starts back up, “well I was just going to get a drink from the vending machine down here, want to walk with me?”

“Oh I would but I should get these cases up to my room” Bill says as he shakes his head

“Well then I’ll walk with you, I’ll get my drink after” Mike says, pressing the ‘up’ button on the wall to call the elevator for Bill. 

“Sounds like a plan” 

The two men board the elevator together 

“What floor?” Mike asks, “oh, ah- 10 I think” Bill responds, unsure. Bill lets go of his suit cases and feels up his pockets. No dice. He reaches around himself to find his wallet in his back pocket, he pulls it out to look at his room card. Mike had already punched in floor 10 though, so by the time Bill announces “yep, 10th floor!”, the elevator is opening for someone who had to get on at the 5th floor. 

The door opens for the tenth floor and Mike walks out, taking one of Bill’s bags with him. 

“So you got one of these fancy rooms huh?” 

Bill catches up with Mike, looking at his room card to see what room number he is,

“Yeah, I uh- Audra said I should” Bill says with a shrug

They stop before Bills door, he swipes the card and the lock blinks green for a moment, before Bill pushes the door open.

“This is nice” Mike says matter of factly.

Bill takes in the vast room. He totally didn’t need this.  _ Thanks honey  _ he thinks to himself with a smile. 

She had paid for the room. She insisted. 

“So when did you get here, Mike?”

“What’s that?”

“When did you arrive in Derry?”

Mike takes his phone from his pocket to check the time before responds, “about three hours ago”

“why aren’t you asleep??”

“I couldn’t sleep” 

Bill nods, realizing that he might be in the same boat as his friend. 

Bill looks around his room and then back at Mike 

“Yeah I probably won’t be able to either” he finally says.

Mike nods.

Bill nods again. 

The room is quiet. 

“So,” Bill strikes up, “wanna hang out in my room and get room service to bring us some drinks?”

Mike laughs out, “oh yeah” 


	24. Club House

Summer vacation was almost over and school was around the corner. No one was happy to be going back. However, they were a lot more relieved now, as it did feel better knowing a killing clown wasn’t after them and that Henry Bowers wouldn’t be making their life a living hell anymore.

It was hot outside but the wind did carry the faintest whisper of fall. Though they weren’t outside, they were in the club house, and in the club house it was just hot. Not the same hot as outside, no, but a different hot. The heat inside the club house was more tolerable, as the sun wasn’t beating down on them, but nonetheless, it was hot. The children took notice of this, and thus, Stanley came up with a solution.

“I brought us fans” Stanley says with a soft smile. He extends his arms to the kids in front of him, holding out the small wood and fabric fans. Beverly takes on from Stanley, flicking it open with a satisfying sound. She fans herself and all the boys watch as her hair gracefully gusts out of her face.

“Good thinking, Stan” She says as she nods approvingly, looking at her fan (which had jasmine and lavender designs on it). Bill then grabs one as well, opening it with less ease than Beverly. He smiles something genuine, 

“Where did you g-get these?” Bill asks as he begins to fan himself, smiling wider when it helps. 

“I’ve had them actually. My mom bought them a while ago for gift bags. I forget what she originally bought them for but I asked if we could have them”

Ben takes his fan, Mike follows.

“I’m assuming she said yes” Ben says, pleased, “thank you, Stanley”

“It’s nothing” Stanley says, beaming that his friends appreciate it. 

Mike takes another fan from Stanley and then holds it up as he turns around 

“Eddie, do you want one?” He asks

Eddie, who is standing beside the hammock, asks:

“Do you have one for Richie?” as he walks forward to take the fan from Mike. 

Stanley laughs but it almost sounds like a scoff,

“ _ Do I have one for Richie _ \- of course” he says as he hands another one to Eddie, now only holding his own.

Eddie smiles, taking the fan and then looking down at the two in his hands. He turns around and trots back up to the hammock.

Richie lays in the hammock, reading a comic. His magnified eyes scanning the cartoonishly colorful pages. He scans from left to right in increments, as he is reading speech bubbles. 

Eddie stands by his side, peering over to look at the comic,

“Stanley brought us fans, this one's yours” Eddie says, giving the one he liked less to Richie.

But Richie doesn’t take it, he just says “that’s cool” before turning the page of his comic. 

Eddie puffs out his cheeks in frustration, dropping the fan on Richie’s stomach. He stands there for a moment, contemplating what to do next. Then, he lays his hands on the hammock and pushes it.

At first it’s just a small rocking motion, and Richie ignores it, but after a particularly harder push that nearly sends Richie out of the hammock, he speaks up. 

“JAYSUS BOI! you tryna keel me?!” Richie finally exclaims as he grips the sides of the hammock, his comic by his side. 

Eddie smiles brightly, but it quickly drops as Richie picks up his comic again to start reading. 

“Richieeee” Eddie says, bored out of his mind. 

“Edddiieeeee” Richie mocks back absentmindedly.

“Let’s play a game” 

“I’m reading Ed’s” Richie says, his focus elsewhere

“Richie come on, I’m bored”

“Play a game with Bill or something” 

Eddie looks over at the group, then back at Richie. 

_ But I want to play a game with you  _ Eddie thinks to himself.

Alas, Eddie sighs, stumbling towards Richie’s feet before flinging himself in the hammock. 

Richie lets out a loud ‘OW’ when he feels a sneaker jab his side on accident.

While the two boys are laying in the hammock together, Beverly is sitting beside the stereo, bobbing her head as she smokes a cigarette. Bill is looking over at Beverly as she gets up from her seat and starts to dance. She smiles and does a twirl, cigarette smoke following her as she moves about her own dance floor. 

Ben also looks over, feeling the world almost go in slow motion. It’s moments like these that he realizes he’s found what people call  _ love _ . His eyes travel over to Bill, just knowing Bill will also be looking. And he is. So Ben takes one last look at Beverly before returning to talking with Stanley. Stanley who is sitting with his legs crossed as he fans himself. 

Mike walks over to Bill and laughs at the crushing boy. He waves his fan toward Bill’s face, blasting the hair from his forehead, 

“Careful, you look like you’re about to catch on fire” Mike says with a smile 

“I-I might” Bill says as he looks away, feeling a little embarrassed. 

Mike takes a seat beside Bill and they strike up a conversation on what they want for their futures. 

Eddie watches on. He looks at each of his friends except for the one in front of him, because Richie was kind of making him mad. 

Beverly suddenly dances up to the hammock

“Richie!” She chants with a melodic voice

Richie looks up from his comic and Eddie feels as though he just got stabbed in the back

“Dance with me!” She says happily as she reaches forward to grab him. She pulls Richie from the hammock and he comes stumbling out, his comic and fan falling to the ground. 

Eddie blinks, almost in shock at how easily Richie got pulled away from his comic. Sure, he was quite literally forced out of his seat, but Eddie wasn’t thinking about that. It simply made no sense to Eddie that Richie wasn’t giving him attention.

Richie didn’t have time to complain as Beverly was pulling him before the stereo, dancing. Richie stands there for a moment, looking around. His eyes land on Stanley who is snickering to himself at the sight of Richie on the dance floor.

“Don’t just stand there!” Stanley says, “dance!” 

Richie laughs “this is stupid” he says as he turns to walk away and out of everyone’s sight 

“Come on Rich! No one is judging here” Beverly says, getting down like no one’s watching. She flicks her cigarette elsewhere and grabs Richie’s hands.

“Beverly I’m really not sure” Richie says in a lowered voice, only to Beverly. She smiles at him and says “Richie just dance with me. It’s just dancing” 

_ It’s just dancing  _ Richie repeats in his head as Beverly begins to move to the music, pulling Richie with her and suddenly it all just seems so clear. All Richie has to do right now is just dance with Beverly. So he dances. 

Beverly and Richie dance like fools together, and everyone is watching. But the two are so engrossed in each other’s energy that they don’t even care, all they needed was each other in that moment. Bill suddenly springs up to his feet and begins to clap his hands. Mike takes notice of this, seeing as this has now ignited the groups interest. Mike moves over to the stereo and turns it up. 

“Oh shit! Dance Bill, Dance!” Richie laughs as Bill smiles at him dancing. More specifically, Bill is doing a lot of cliche dance moves, like the scuba diver, which earns a giggle from Beverly. 

Mike bops his head by the stereo, slowly beginning to really feel the music.

Ben looks over to Stanley, “you should join them”

“Me?” Stanley asks, shocked, “Well then you should too” 

Ben looks down, “I don’t know, Stanley”

Ben suddenly felt a dark cloud. He couldn’t help but feel afraid to have fun in that moment, he was too insecure. Stanley watches him, and then looks at his friends. 

“Well I’ll stay here with you then” Stanley says.

He didn’t want to dance anyway.

Eddie stares at the four people dancing, his eyes travel to Richie, then to Bill, then Beverly, then Richie, then Mike, then back to Richie. Slowly, he feels himself exit the hammock and travel up to Richie, whose back was facing him at the moment. Richie was shuffling to the beat when he feels a gentle finger tap his shoulder. He turns around to see Eddie standing there. Richie immediately stops dancing, suddenly embarrassed, but then he remembers what Beverly says and immediately breaks out in dance again without saying a word. 

“You look like you’re having a stroke” Eddie says- not actually meaning it 

“You look like you’re missing out” Richie says as he does a crude thrust to the bang of the drum at the end of the song.

Eddie snorts, smiling. Richie smiles back, and when the next song starts, Eddie begins to sway on his feet. 

Beverly runs up to Ben

“Get up get up get up!” She says as she grabs his hands, pulling him to his feet 

“Bev, wait I don’t know if I can-” 

“Hold on” she says before turning to Stanley and dragging him up to his feet as well 

“Go dance!” She demands as she shoves him to where the party is at. Bill helps by ushering Stanley beside him and Mike 

“I-it’s easy Stan, y-you just-”

“I know how to dance” Stanley says sharply, not dancing but moving to the music 

Beverly looks back to Ben and beams something beautiful. The world slows again as Ben suddenly feels the courage to ask “Can we dance?” 

Ben immediately regrets this however and opens his mouth to apologize, but he doesn’t make it, as Beverly runs a hand through her hair and pulls Ben to the dance floor. 

“Of course we can dance, silly” 

So there they are, all dancing together in the stuffy summer heat, the music blaring. They all move with a certain vigor that screams “we survived”.

Richie whips out an air guitar and Eddie does the same. They both enter a sick air guitar battle and the losers form a circle around them. They laugh as they sing to the music, butchering lyrics from moment to moment. 

Eddie moves away from Richie, 

“Where are you going?” Richie asks immediately 

“I’m getting my aspirator”

“You don’t need it” 

“What?” Eddie is shocked. Why would Richie say something like that? 

“You’re breathing fine”

“I’ve been dancing”

“You’re breathing like I am”

Richie says before gabbing Eddie wrist and pulling him back in to dance.

“You’re fine Eds, just dance”

Eddie suddenly felt beyond grateful that Richie stopped him. And Richie felt beyond grateful for dancing. 


End file.
